I’ve tried to stay quiet. I’ve tried to keep my head down and live peaceably, like Scripture teaches. But there comes a point when silence feels like complicity. And today… today I’m fed up.

I opened a news app this morning, and there it was—another headline about how “religion has no place in the public square.” Another politician, another influencer, another self-righteous talking head wagging their finger at Christians for having the audacity to believe that our faith should inform the way we live—and vote, speak, and lead.

It’s not just that they want us quiet in the pews. No, they want us silent everywhere. And if they can’t silence us? They’ll censor us.

Big Tech—those self-appointed moral overlords—are doing just that. Editing sermons, deplatforming pastors, flagging Scripture as “hate speech.” You can post nearly anything online these days—filth, lies, propaganda—but quote Romans 1, or say “Jesus is the only way,” and suddenly you’re violating “community standards.”

Whose community, exactly? Certainly not the body of Christ.

Isaiah 59:14-15 could have been written about our culture today:

“Justice is turned back, and righteousness stands far away;
for truth has stumbled in the public squares,
and uprightness cannot enter.
Truth is lacking,
and he who departs from evil makes himself a prey.”

That’s it. That’s the world we’re in now. Speak truth, and you become the hunted. Refuse to go along with the narrative, and you’re branded intolerant, dangerous, even hateful.

But I won’t apologize for standing on God’s Word. I won’t “evolve” to appease people who celebrate sin and demand silence from the saints.

I’m tired of being told that my beliefs don’t belong in public. My faith isn’t a hobby—it’s who I am. It governs my conscience, my values, my decisions. You don’t get to tell me to keep it hidden while waving your ideology like a battle flag in every school, courtroom, and platform.

It’s all so backwards. They say they’re the tolerant ones, but they can’t even tolerate a Bible verse. They say they’re for freedom of expression—unless the expression involves Christ crucified. They say they want diversity—until a Christian speaks up.

What they really want is dominion. A godless, sanitized public square, scrubbed clean of every cross, every prayer, every conviction that challenges their golden calf of self-worship.

Well, I’ve had enough.

Galatians 1:10 echoes in my mind:

“For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

I choose God. Every time. Let them mock. Let them ban me. Let them shadowban every verse I post or every truth I speak. I refuse to let them shame me into silence.

And let’s be honest, it’s not just secular progressives. It’s the spineless churches too—the ones that bend Scripture to fit trends, who’d rather be liked by the world than be holy before God. Some of them sound more like activists than ambassadors of Christ. No wonder the culture thinks they can push us around. Half the church already surrendered.

But not me. Not my house.

I’m reminded of Psalm 2:1-4:

“Why do the nations rage
and the peoples plot in vain?
The kings of the earth set themselves,
and the rulers take counsel together,
against the Lord and against His Anointed, saying,
‘Let us burst their bonds apart
and cast away their cords from us.’
He who sits in the heavens laughs;
the Lord holds them in derision.”

They think they’re strong, powerful, untouchable. But God isn’t worried. He’s not scrambling to hold onto influence in this digital age. He is sovereign, reigning, holy, and He will not be mocked.

And that’s what comforts me tonight. They may erase our sermons from their platforms, but they can’t erase truth from the hearts of believers. They can censor the message, but they’ll never silence the Gospel.

 

Watch How Easily JD Vance SILENCES Kaitlan Collins Live on CNN!

Still, I won’t pretend it’s easy. Sometimes I feel exhausted by the pressure. We’re told to speak “love,” but when love means telling the truth about sin and salvation, they call it hate. We’re supposed to be light, but the moment we shine, they call us bigots.

So I knelt by my bed tonight and prayed:

“Father, strengthen Your people. Give us courage when we’re tempted to cave. Let us be bold—not with anger, but with unshakable conviction. Let our pastors preach truth with fire. Let our teachers and writers and artists reflect Your holiness, not the world’s confusion. Protect Your Church, Lord, from compromise and corruption. May we not be seduced by applause or paralyzed by fear. Let us love fiercely, but never lie. Let us be known not just for kindness, but for courage. Amen.”

I don’t want to live a safe Christianity. I want to live a surrendered one. The kind that refuses to bow to any idol, even if that idol is wearing a rainbow badge or hiding behind a tech company’s algorithm.

The public square belongs to God just as much as the sanctuary does. Every inch of this world is His, and He’s not going to stay behind church walls just because culture says “stay out.”

So no—I won’t stop speaking. I won’t stop praying in public. I won’t stop quoting Scripture or raising my children to know the difference between truth and deception. Let them label me whatever they want. My identity is not up for debate.

The Word of God isn’t a private opinion. It’s a public declaration.

And I’ll keep declaring it.