Bear Blog Draft: The Faith That Burns Quiet
I believe in God. But not in the way most people say it. Not with performative prayer circles. Not with hashtags and hallelujahs posted from a phone that was upgraded before the rent got paid.
I believe in God with grit. With calloused hands. With quiet mornings where I clock in on time, do my job, and walk out with my head up—even when no one thanks me.
That’s how I pray. With discipline, not desperation. With stillness, not showmanship.
I don’t beg for blessings. I build for them. One shift at a time. One ignored email at a time. One micromanager breathing down my neck while I still fix the freezer better than anyone else—without a word.
My job, maybe nonsense. My department head may be a dill weed. But I’m blessed—because I woke up, I showed up, and I haven’t folded.
Sometimes I feel like I should drop to my knees and plead. But I know that’s not who I am. Not anymore.
I believe in a God who watches me lift, endure, and keep walking. A God who gave me fire, not fear. And if He ever speaks to me again, it won’t be in thunder or scripture. It’ll be in that moment where everything breaks—and I don’t.
That’s faith. The kind that burns quiet. The kind that builds kingdoms out of nothing.
And until the day I get what I truly want— I’ll keep stacking bricks while the world watches TV reruns of their own comfort.
Because this? This is how I pray. And God hears me just fine.
#faith #grit #bookofboris #brokedoctrine #quietfire #bearblog