There comes a moment in every believer’s life when the heart whispers a prayer so sincere, so tender, so full of longing that it feels like heaven should open instantly. We ask for beauty, for clarity, for breakthrough, for something gentle and life-giving and good. We ask for flowers, imagining a field of color blooming effortlessly at our feet. Yet more often than not, what arrives first is not beauty but darkness, not blossoms but clouds, not answers but rainfall. And in that unexpected moment, the soul begins to wrestle with a question it rarely knows how to articulate: why would God give rain when I prayed for flowers? Why would He send storms when I begged for peace? Why would the ground beneath me feel heavier right when I was most desperate for something light? These questions mark the very beginning of a spiritual transformation, because they pull us deeper into the mystery of how God works, how He heals, how He prepares, and how He grows the very things we once begged Him to deliver without delay.

It is far too easy to assume that rain is a sign of rejection, or that storms are symbols of abandonment. When life becomes heavy, the mind instinctively gravitates toward the idea that something has gone wrong, that God must be displeased, or that the prayer must not have been worthy of an answer. But rain is rarely a punishment in Scripture. Rain is nourishment. Rain is preparation. Rain is the beginning of growth even when the ground feels too hard to receive anything at all. And yet, when we are the ones standing beneath the downpour, soaked by circumstances we didn’t ask for, facing emotions we never wanted to feel, it can be almost impossible to see that rain may be an act of mercy disguised as a storm. In those moments, the heart becomes fragile, the spirit becomes tender, and faith becomes a battlefield where every fear, every doubt, and every memory of waiting rises to the surface all at once. Still, this is where God does His most intimate work, shaping the unseen parts of our story before the visible beauty ever appears.

There is a hidden tension woven through every season of waiting: the desire for immediate beauty and the need for deeper preparation. We want God to plant flowers directly into our hands, vibrant and complete, fragrant and undeniable. But God is not a florist; He is a gardener. Gardeners do not place flowers fully grown. They work with seeds, with soil, with time, with unseen processes. And seeds do not flourish without rain. This truth becomes easier to understand when distance gives clarity, but in the middle of the storm it can feel unbearable. We want beauty now. We want breakthrough now. We want answers now. Yet the very beauty we desire cannot exist without the watering that frustration often brings. Rain softens the soil so the seed can open. Rain prepares the ground to receive what sunlight alone could never produce. Rain shifts the condition of the earth so new life can take root. And while we may interpret the storm as a setback, heaven sees it as a starting point.

When God sends rain into the life of someone who prayed for flowers, He is not denying the request. He is ensuring the foundation is strong enough to hold the blessing. Flowers arrive quickly, but roots take time. And God loves us too deeply to give us something that looks beautiful but cannot survive. Many believers spend years waiting for an answer that feels overdue, all while missing the miracle happening beneath the surface. During seasons of rain, our character deepens, our motives refine, our desires clarify, and our faith learns to grow without visible proof. Rain exposes what cannot stay and strengthens what must remain. Rain teaches us endurance, patience, humility, and resilience. Rain brings us face-to-face with the things we’ve been avoiding internally, the things that need healing before the blessing arrives. What looks like delay is often divine protection. What feels like unanswered prayer is often the exact preparation required for everything we asked God to bring into our lives.

Many people assume that heavy seasons mean God is distant, but nothing could be further from the truth. Rain is not the absence of God; it is one of His softest voices. Storms are not proof of abandonment; they are places where God stands nearest. When Scripture describes God speaking through thunder, whispering through wind, or revealing Himself in the midst of storm clouds, it paints a picture of a God who is not intimidated by trouble. The rain that falls over your life carries His fingerprints. The storm that surrounds you carries His intention. The clouds overhead are not signs of darkness coming for you, but signs of nourishment coming to you. And yet, the human heart often misreads divine timing as divine neglect. We equate silence with indifference. We interpret waiting as dismissal. But God’s silence is never apathy. His timing is never careless. His process is never wasteful. Rain that comes from heaven carries purpose even when it arrives without explanation.

The truth is that God will often answer your prayer in a form that contradicts your expectation. He will send what looks like a setback to set something new in motion. He will allow discomfort to expose roots that were growing in the wrong direction. He will let you walk through seasons that feel unsettling because the settling He is bringing requires a different version of you. Rain does not only prepare the soil; it prepares the sower. Flowers may be what we want, but transformation is what God wants. And transformation rarely begins with beauty; it begins with breaking. The seed must break so that life can emerge. The soil must break so that roots can descend. The clouds must break so the rain can fall. And the heart must break in the hands of God so it can be reshaped into something capable of carrying new life with honor, gratitude, and spiritual maturity.

There is a sacred discomfort in waiting for beauty while standing in the rain, a feeling of contradiction that unsettles even the strongest believers. We pray with hope and receive hardship. We dream with expectation and wake up in confusion. We take steps of faith only to feel like we’re sinking in unexpected muddy terrain. But this is where the most powerful stories of Scripture took shape. Joseph asked for purpose and received betrayal. Moses asked for deliverance and received a wilderness. David asked for anointing and received giants. Paul asked for clarity and received a thorn. None of these were punishments. They were preparations. And if we look closely enough, we will discover a pattern: God often sends rain before He sends flowers, storms before clarity, tension before release, breaking before breakthrough. It is not cruelty. It is cultivation.

Many people read the story of Jesus calming the storm as a moment of divine intervention, but it is also a moment of divine revelation. The disciples panicked during the storm because they assumed storms were signs of danger. They forgot that storms were also signs of teaching, shaping, and spiritual expansion. They woke Jesus because they believed the rain was the problem, when in truth the rain was revealing their inner landscape. God still uses storms this way. Your storm is not exposing your weakness; it is exposing your readiness. Your rain is not announcing loss; it is announcing that the seed is about to open. And just like the disciples, many believers cry out to God not because the storm is too big, but because the storm feels too close. Storms make you confront the version of yourself you would never see in the sunlight. Rain reveals where faith stands and where fear still hides. But the presence of a storm is evidence that God is preparing something worthy of endurance.

The deeper truth hidden beneath every season of rain is that God is planting something you cannot see yet. And just like natural seeds, spiritual seeds often grow in silence. The soil looks the same day after day, giving no indication that anything is happening beneath the surface. When you look at your life and nothing seems to change, when your prayers echo back with no visible sign of movement, when your dreams feel paused or postponed or concealed, you may be tempted to believe that nothing is growing. But rain never returns empty. It always changes the ground it touches, even when the transformation is invisible. Faith grows in the unseen. Character develops in the unseen. Healing takes place in the unseen. Roots anchor themselves in the unseen. And this unseen work becomes the very foundation your future depends on.

There is a reason God often lets the ground remain dark and quiet after the rain. It forces us to let go of control. It teaches us to trust without validation. It invites us into a deeper intimacy with God, one where the gift is not merely the flower but the transformation taking place inside the one who longs for it. Too many people ask God for flowers without realizing that flowers come with responsibility. Beauty is easy to admire but requires maturity to sustain. Influence looks glamorous but demands humility to steward. Blessings feel like rewards but behave like assignments. And assignments require depth. God sends rain to give us depth. Rain builds spiritual infrastructure. Rain makes sure that when the blessing comes, it does not crush us but grows us.

Something profound happens inside the believer who learns to welcome rain instead of resisting it. The heart grows softer. The spirit grows stronger. The eyes grow clearer. Rain changes how we interpret hardship, how we perceive delay, and how we respond to disappointment. Instead of asking why something is happening, we begin to ask what God is growing through it. Instead of assuming abandonment, we start recognizing alignment. Instead of seeing storms as threats, we begin seeing them as invitations. Rain reframes everything. And when rain becomes a teacher rather than a tormentor, the believer steps into a new level of spiritual maturity that cannot be faked, forced, or fabricated.

The remarkable thing about seasons of rain is that they do not merely prepare you for blessings; they prepare you to become someone who can bring blessing into the lives of others. Rain produces empathy, compassion, tenderness, humility, and a deeper sensitivity to the struggles of those who walk through storms of their own. A person who has never walked through storms often lacks depth when trying to comfort another. They may offer clichés instead of care, quick answers instead of understanding, or religious phrases instead of genuine presence. But someone who has stood in the rain long enough to feel it, question it, and eventually learn from it becomes a vessel of comfort in ways no sermon or study can replicate. Rain births ministers. Rain births intercessors. Rain births the kind of people who can sit with another soul in silence and know exactly what to say when words finally come. Rain softens hearts so that compassion can take root, and compassion becomes the fragrance of a life touched by God’s mercy. Sometimes the flowers God grows through you are not the ones you prayed for, but the ones someone else desperately needed to see.

When rain becomes part of the spiritual rhythm of your life, something extraordinary begins to shift within your identity. You stop seeing yourself as someone life happens to and start seeing yourself as someone God is shaping intentionally. You stop interpreting adversity through the lens of defeat and start seeing it through the lens of preparation. You stop asking why things are happening to you and begin asking why things are happening for you. This shift may sound subtle, but it is monumental. It transforms anxiety into anticipation. It transforms confusion into curiosity. It transforms fear into faith. A believer who sees rain as preparation no longer walks through storms with dread but with expectation, knowing that God never allows rain unless He has planted something beneath the surface that requires it. Rain becomes a promise instead of a threat. The clouds become a signal that something is beginning, not ending. This posture changes everything about how you move through life, because it teaches you to trust the process even before the promise appears.

There comes a point in every season of rain when the believer reaches a place of revelation, a moment where the heart recognizes that the rain was not punishment but promise. In that moment, the rain does not stop immediately, but its meaning changes. The same storm that once felt heavy now feels holy. The same season that once felt confusing now feels instructive. The same unanswered prayer that once felt like a barrier now becomes a doorway. When the meaning of rain changes, the spirit enters a new dimension of gratitude, one where the believer begins thanking God not only for blessings but for burdens that taught them how to carry those blessings well. Gratitude that blooms in the rain is deeper than gratitude born in sunlight. It is richer, truer, and more enduring. Anyone can thank God for flowers. It takes a transformed heart to thank Him for rain. When that kind of gratitude emerges in your spirit, it becomes a foundation for joy that no circumstance can steal.

As the rain continues its work, something beautiful begins to happen beneath the surface of a life that once felt barren. The soil shifts. The roots strengthen. The seed awakens. There is a divine timing to everything God grows, a sacred pace that does not rush but also never delays. While the rain falls, God is orchestrating things you cannot see, preparing connections, orchestrating opportunities, healing wounds you forgot you carried, removing people who cannot go where you are headed, and reshaping your heart to recognize the blessing when it finally blooms. Many people receive blessings they prayed for but fail to recognize them because their hearts were not prepared to perceive beauty when it arrived. Rain gives you spiritual eyesight. Rain teaches discernment. Rain sharpens intuition. Rain prepares you to see what you once would have overlooked. When your spiritual eyes open after a season of rain, you begin recognizing the hand of God in places that once appeared ordinary.

When the first signs of growth finally emerge, they rarely look like the flowers you imagined. Growth begins subtly. A shift in your thinking. A change in your priorities. An unexpected opportunity. A conversation that aligns with something God whispered to you years ago. A release from something that kept you bound. A new clarity about what matters and what no longer does. These are the early signs of spiritual blooming. Flowers do not appear instantly; their growth happens in layers. Roots form first, then stems, then leaves, then buds, then blossoms. God grows people the same way. He grows us through stages and seasons, never skipping the foundational work necessary to sustain what He is building. That is why it takes time. That is why the process does not feel glamorous. That is why the rain feels heavy before the beauty feels visible. God is not a God of shortcuts. He is a God of deep work, and deep work always takes time.

There is something profoundly sacred about the moment you realize the thing you once resented became the very thing that grew you into who you needed to become. That realization changes everything. You stop fighting the process. You stop resisting growth. You stop blaming yourself for seasons that were never meant to break you but to shape you. You start embracing every chapter—not because it was easy, but because it was necessary. You see that the rain you prayed against became the nourishment you needed. You see that the delay you despised became the protection that saved you. You see that the silence you feared became the stillness where God whispered to you with clarity. This kind of revelation is not cheap. It is purchased through tears, endurance, surrender, and trust. But once your spirit reaches this place, wisdom begins to bloom in ways that anchor you for the rest of your life. The believer who has lived through storms with God emerges with a kind of internal strength that cannot be shaken by superficial circumstances.

The deeper beauty of God’s process is that flowers do eventually come. They do not arrive on our preferred timeline. They do not always look like the pictures in our imagination. They do not appear to validate our expectations but to confirm God’s faithfulness. When the flowers bloom, they bloom in abundance. They bloom with brilliance. They bloom in a way only God could orchestrate. And when you finally see them, something inside you softens permanently. You begin to understand why the rain had to fall the way it did. You begin to see how every drop was necessary. You realize that the timing was not arbitrary. You recognize that the soil of your soul needed every ounce of nourishment that only a storm could provide. When the flowers come, they testify silently to every moment of growth you could not see happening, every hidden transformation God was guiding, and every whispered promise He never forgot.

One of the most profound truths of the spiritual journey is that God never once intended the rain to bury you; He intended it to plant you. Being planted and being buried feel identical in the beginning. Both are dark. Both are isolating. Both feel like downward motion. Both look like endings. But only one leads to resurrection. Only one leads to growth. Only one leads to something emerging stronger than before. When you interpret your storm as burial, you will feel defeated. When you interpret your storm as planting, you will feel expectant. The difference is perspective. God never buries His children. He plants them in places where roots can grow, where strength can form, where character can deepen, and where the future can rise securely. You may feel underground right now, but underground is where God begins every great story.

Many believers never realize that the darkest parts of their journeys were the wombs of their greatest callings. What felt like loss was actually formation. What felt like confusion was actually redirection. What felt like abandonment was actually alignment. God used every tear as water. He used every disappointment as pruning. He used every delay as protection. He used every struggle as preparation. Nothing was wasted. Not a moment. Not a season. Not a hardship. Everything was shaping you for a future far greater than the one you imagined when you first asked for flowers. And when you finally stand in a field of blessings, you will realize that the rain you once questioned was the exact ingredient that made the beauty possible.

If you are in a season of rain right now, this is not where your story ends. This is not the chapter where God forgets you or distances Himself from you. This is the chapter where He draws near, where He speaks softly, where He strengthens what is fragile and waters what is hidden. This is the chapter where everything feels uncertain because everything inside you is being rearranged for greater capacity. This is the chapter where your roots grow deeper than your fear. This is the chapter where heaven is preparing something that requires patience, trust, and surrender. And when the time is right, when the soil has settled, when the roots have strengthened, and when the seed has opened—your flowers will come. They will bloom in ways that redeem every storm. They will bloom in ways that honor every prayer you cried through trembling hands. They will bloom in ways that prove God was never withholding beauty from you; He was preparing you to carry it without losing yourself.

So do not curse the rain. Do not despise the storm. Do not assume the heaviness means God has denied you. You are not forgotten. You are not abandoned. You are not behind. You are not being buried. You are being planted. And when God plants something, it grows. It flourishes. It expands. It becomes more than you prayed for. The flowers are coming. They are already on their way. And when they bloom, you will understand why the rain had to fall the way it did. You will see that every drop carried purpose. You will recognize that the storm was not a setback but a sacred setup. You will look back and realize that what you thought was breaking you was actually building you. Rain is not rejection. Rain is preparation. Rain is evidence that God is growing something inside you that sunlight alone could never produce.

And when you finally walk through fields of beauty in the season to come, you will not simply be someone who received flowers; you will be someone who became a garden others can draw life from. That is the deeper miracle. The rain that once felt heavy becomes the testimony someone else needs. The storm that once looked senseless becomes the story that pulls someone else out of despair. The unanswered prayer that once broke you becomes the wisdom that strengthens someone else’s faith. God does not grow gardens only for your enjoyment. He grows them so others can walk through them and find hope, healing, and a reminder that rain is never the end of the story. It is always the beginning.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

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The question used to be simple: who has the best algorithm? For a decade, the artificial intelligence race rewarded clever code. Researchers at university labs and scrappy startups could publish a paper, train a model on rented cloud compute, and genuinely compete with the biggest players on the planet. That era is ending. The new race belongs to whoever controls the physical stack, from the launchpad to the server rack to the orbital relay station beaming data back to Earth.

In February 2026, SpaceX absorbed xAI in a deal valued at $1.25 trillion, according to Bloomberg. The transaction, structured as a share exchange, merged rocket manufacturing, satellite broadband, and frontier AI development under a single corporate umbrella. Elon Musk described the result as “the most ambitious, vertically-integrated innovation engine on (and off) Earth.” Days later, SpaceX filed with the Federal Communications Commission for authorisation to launch up to one million satellites as part of what it called an “orbital data centre.” The filing proposed satellites operating between 500 and 2,000 kilometres in altitude, functioning as distributed processing nodes optimised for large-scale AI inference.

This is not incremental progress. It is a structural break. And it raises a question that the entire technology industry will spend the next decade answering: does the future of artificial intelligence belong to whoever writes the smartest code, or to whoever controls the infrastructure on which all code must run?

The Stack Nobody Else Owns

To understand why the SpaceX-xAI combination matters, you need to see the full vertical stack it now commands. At the bottom sits rocket manufacturing and launch services. SpaceX launched more than 2,500 Starlink satellites in 2025 alone and remains on track to exceed its projected $15.5 billion in revenue for that year. The company generated an estimated $8 billion in profit on $15 billion to $16 billion of revenue in 2025, according to Reuters. No other entity on Earth can put hardware into orbit at remotely comparable cost or cadence.

One layer up sits the satellite constellation itself. More than 9,500 Starlink satellites have been launched to date, with roughly 8,000 functioning. The network already provides broadband connectivity across six continents. Next-generation Starlink V3 satellites, slated for deployment beginning in 2026 aboard Starship, will deliver more than 20 times the capacity of current V2 satellites. Each V3 satellite will support terabit-class bandwidth and connect to the broader constellation via laser mesh links capable of up to one terabit per second. Current Starlink satellites already carry three lasers operating at up to 200 gigabits per second, forming a mesh network that routes data across the constellation without touching the ground. This means the network can move information between continents at the speed of light through vacuum, which is roughly 47 per cent faster than light travels through fibre optic cables.

Then comes the AI layer. Before the merger, xAI had already built Colossus, widely regarded as the world's largest AI supercomputer. Located in a repurposed Electrolux factory in Memphis, Tennessee, Colossus went from conception to 100,000 Nvidia H100 GPUs in just 122 days, going live on 22 July 2024. Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang noted that projects of this scale typically take around four years, making the deployment remarkably fast. The facility then doubled to 200,000 GPUs in another 92 days. As of mid-2025, Colossus comprises 150,000 H100 GPUs, 50,000 H200 GPUs, and 30,000 GB200 GPUs, with stated plans to expand beyond one million GPUs. The system uses NVIDIA Spectrum-X Ethernet networking and achieves 95 per cent data throughput with zero application latency degradation or packet loss. It draws up to 250 megawatts from the grid, supplemented by a 150-megawatt Megapack battery system, with an expansion target of 1.2 gigawatts.

Finally, the communications layer ties everything together. Starlink already provides the backbone for global data relay, and the proposed orbital data centre satellites would connect to Starlink via high-bandwidth optical links before routing down to ground stations. The result is a closed loop: SpaceX builds the rockets, launches the satellites, operates the network, trains the AI models, and serves the inference requests, all without depending on a single external supplier for any critical link in the chain.

Jensen Huang, speaking at the World Economic Forum in Davos in January 2026, described AI as a “five-layer cake” comprising energy, chips, infrastructure, AI models, and applications. He called the current moment “the largest infrastructure build-out in human history” and estimated that the next five years would present a $3 trillion to $4 trillion AI infrastructure opportunity. The SpaceX-xAI merger represents perhaps the most aggressive attempt by any single entity to own every layer of that cake simultaneously.

Why the Grid Cannot Keep Up

The rationale for moving AI infrastructure into orbit begins with a terrestrial crisis. The primary constraint on AI expansion is no longer capital or algorithmic talent. It is electricity.

According to the International Energy Agency, global electricity consumption by data centres is projected to more than double by 2030, reaching approximately 945 terawatt hours, with AI workloads as the primary driver. In the United States specifically, the Energy Information Administration projects total electricity consumption will reach record levels in both 2025 and 2026, rising from about 4,110 billion kilowatt hours in 2024 to more than 4,260 billion kilowatt hours in 2026. Data centres already consume more than 4 per cent of the country's total electricity supply.

The numbers at the facility level are staggering. The Stargate project, a $500 billion AI infrastructure joint venture announced by President Donald Trump in January 2025 involving OpenAI, SoftBank, and Oracle, has already brought its flagship site in Abilene, Texas online. That single campus houses hundreds of thousands of Nvidia GB200 GPUs and pulls roughly 900 megawatts of power. Meta is developing a one-gigawatt “Prometheus” cluster and has plans for a five-gigawatt “Hyperion” facility. A single AI-related task can consume up to 1,000 times more electricity than a traditional web search, which explains why a handful of AI facilities can destabilise a regional power supply in ways that hundreds of conventional data centres never could.

The grid simply cannot keep pace. A survey found that 72 per cent of data centre industry respondents consider power and grid capacity to be “very or extremely challenging.” Power constraints are extending data centre construction timelines by 24 to 72 months. In the PJM regional grid serving 65 million people across the eastern United States, capacity market clearing prices for the 2026 to 2027 delivery year surged to $329.17 per megawatt, more than ten times the $28.92 per megawatt price just two years earlier. Regional grids in many cases cannot accommodate large-scale data centres without transmission and distribution upgrades that require five to ten years of planning, permitting, and construction.

This is the opening that orbital infrastructure exploits. In space, continuous access to solar energy eliminates dependence on terrestrial power grids. The vacuum provides natural cooling, removing one of the most expensive and water-intensive requirements of ground-based data centres. A typical terrestrial data centre uses 300,000 gallons of water daily for cooling, with the largest facilities consuming 5 million gallons, equivalent to the demands of a town of 50,000 residents. And because orbital platforms sit above national borders, they bypass the community resistance and permitting bottlenecks that have slowed terrestrial expansion to a crawl.

Musk has stated that deploying one million tonnes of satellites per year could add approximately 100 gigawatts of AI computing capacity, with the potential to scale to one terawatt annually. “My estimate is that within 2 to 3 years, the lowest cost way to generate AI compute will be in space,” he wrote. Whether that timeline proves accurate or wildly optimistic, the strategic logic is clear: if you cannot plug into the grid fast enough, you go above it.

The Terrestrial Rivals and Their Structural Gaps

No competitor currently matches this vertical integration, though several are trying to close the gap through different strategies.

Amazon represents the most credible challenger, combining Project Kuiper (rebranded as Amazon Leo in November 2025) with AWS cloud infrastructure. Amazon has invested over $10 billion in launch contracts alone and plans a constellation of 3,236 LEO satellites across three orbital shells. As of early 2026, the company has launched more than 200 production satellites, with its first Ariane 6 mission in February 2026 deploying 32 satellites in a single flight. However, Amazon faces an FCC deadline to deploy 1,618 satellites by July 2026, a requirement it is statistically unlikely to meet at current launch cadence. In January 2026, Amazon filed for a regulatory waiver to extend this deadline. The total capital expenditure for the first-generation system is estimated between $16.5 billion and $20 billion, significantly exceeding initial guidance.

The structural gap is illuminating. Amazon must purchase launches from external providers, including, remarkably, SpaceX's own Falcon 9 rockets. It does not manufacture its own launch vehicles. Blue Origin, the Jeff Bezos-founded rocket company, has yet to achieve the launch cadence necessary to serve as Kuiper's primary deployer. And while AWS provides formidable cloud infrastructure on the ground, with plans for more than 300 ground stations to interface with the Leo constellation, Amazon has not announced plans for orbital compute capabilities comparable to SpaceX's vision. The result is a competitor that owns significant pieces of the stack but not the complete vertical chain.

The European Union is pursuing sovereignty through IRIS squared, its Infrastructure for Resilience, Interconnectivity and Security by Satellite programme. Awarded to the SpaceRISE consortium of SES, Eutelsat, and Hispasat in October 2024, IRIS squared carries a budget of 10.6 billion euros, including 6.5 billion euros from public funding and over 4 billion euros from industry. The system plans approximately 290 satellites across LEO and MEO orbits. But the first launch is not envisioned until 2029, with full operational capacity expected in 2030. The programme's urgent geopolitical motivation became sharper after the February 2025 suspension of United States military aid to Ukraine, which raised questions about continued Starlink availability and underscored Europe's dependency on American infrastructure. By the time the European constellation reaches operational status, SpaceX may have tens of thousands of additional satellites in orbit.

China presents a different kind of challenge, one driven by state coordination rather than corporate integration. The Guowang constellation aims for 13,000 satellites, with plans to launch 310 in 2026, 900 in 2027, and 3,600 annually beginning in 2028. The Qianfan constellation, backed by the Shanghai municipal government and developed by Shanghai SpaceCom Satellite Technology, targets 15,000 satellites by 2030. Most significantly for the AI infrastructure question, China launched the “Three-Body Computing Constellation” in May 2025 via a Long March-2D rocket, sending 12 satellites into orbit as a first batch. Developed by the China Aerospace Science and Industry Corporation in partnership with Zhejiang Lab, each satellite carries an 8-billion-parameter AI model capable of 744 tera operations per second. Collectively, the initial 12 satellites achieved 5 peta operations per second, equivalent to a top-tier supercomputer. The satellites demonstrated the ability to classify astronomical phenomena and terrestrial infrastructure with 94 per cent accuracy without ground intervention, and by processing data in space they reduce downlink data volume by a factor of 1,000 for specific tasks. Plans call for scaling to 2,800 satellites delivering exa-scale compute power by 2030.

China's approach demonstrates that the orbital AI concept is not unique to SpaceX. But China lacks a single vertically integrated entity controlling the entire stack. Its satellite programmes are distributed across state-owned enterprises, private companies, and municipal governments. The coordination overhead of this distributed model may prove a disadvantage against a single entity that can make decisions at the speed of a corporate hierarchy rather than a bureaucratic one.

The Data Feedback Loop

Vertical integration does not merely reduce costs. It creates a compounding advantage through data feedback loops that terrestrial-only competitors cannot replicate.

Consider what happens when the same entity operates both the satellite constellation and the AI models. Starlink generates vast quantities of real-time data about atmospheric conditions, signal propagation, orbital debris patterns, and network traffic flows across the entire globe. That data feeds directly into xAI's models, which can optimise satellite operations, predict hardware failures, and improve routing algorithms. The improved operations generate better data, which produces better models, which further improve operations. This is the flywheel effect that has powered platform monopolies in the internet age, now extended to orbital infrastructure.

The Harvard Business Review noted in November 2025 that businesses across industries are using real-time satellite data to gain competitive advantage, with the number of active satellites tripling in five years and projected to reach 60,000 by 2030. Modern satellites equipped with AI and edge computing have become “smart tools for predictive logistics, environmental monitoring, and fast disaster response.” Yet only 18 per cent of surveyed executives expect to scale these tools soon, held back by the perception that space technology is too complex for daily business. A vertically integrated provider that can package satellite data, AI analysis, and connectivity into a single service removes that complexity barrier entirely.

The implications for training data are equally significant. An entity with global satellite coverage has access to a continuously updated stream of Earth observation data that no terrestrial competitor can match. Remote sensing, weather patterns, maritime tracking, agricultural monitoring, urban development, and infrastructure change detection all become training inputs. When the AI models trained on this data are then used to optimise the satellite constellation that gathered it, the loop closes in a way that generates structural advantages compounding over time.

The Algorithmic Counterargument

Against this infrastructure-first thesis stands a powerful rejoinder: DeepSeek.

In January 2025, the Chinese AI lab released its R1 reasoning model, achieving performance competitive with OpenAI's o1 on mathematical and coding benchmarks. The claimed training cost was approximately $5.6 million using just 2,000 GPUs over 55 days, perhaps 5 per cent of what OpenAI spent on comparable capability. DeepSeek's architectural innovations, including Multi-Head Latent Attention and its proprietary Mixture of Experts approach, demonstrated that clever engineering could substitute for brute-force compute to a remarkable degree. One year later, DeepSeek R1 remained the most liked open-source model on Hugging Face.

This matters because it challenges the assumption that infrastructure alone determines capability. If a relatively small team with constrained hardware access can produce frontier-quality models, then perhaps the vertically integrated orbital stack is an expensive solution to a problem that algorithmic efficiency will solve more cheaply. The RAND Corporation noted that DeepSeek's success “calls into question” the assumption that Washington enjoys a decisive advantage due to massive compute budgets.

But the counterargument has limits. As the Centre for Strategic and International Studies noted, while DeepSeek lowered AI entry barriers, it “has not achieved a disruptive expansion of capability boundaries nor altered the trajectory of AI development.” Its innovations represent refinements of existing techniques rather than fundamental breakthroughs. And critically, DeepSeek's efficiency gains have not reduced aggregate demand for compute. Global investment in AI infrastructure continues to accelerate, with Big Tech capital expenditure crossing $300 billion in 2025 alone, including $100 billion from Amazon, $80 billion from Microsoft, and substantial commitments from Alphabet and Meta.

The Jevons Paradox looms large. As AI becomes cheaper to run per unit, it proliferates into more applications, driving total demand higher. Google reported that over a 12-month period, the energy footprint of its median Gemini Apps text prompt dropped by 33 times while delivering higher quality responses. Yet Google's total electricity consumption still rose 27 per cent year over year. Efficiency gains are real, but they are being overwhelmed by the velocity of adoption. McKinsey forecasts $6.7 trillion in global capital for data centre infrastructure through 2030.

Research published on ResearchGate in 2026 argues explicitly that “infrastructure architecture itself, distinct from algorithmic innovation, constitutes a significant lever” for AI capability. The OECD's November 2025 report on competition in AI infrastructure identified “high concentration and barriers to entry” at every level of the AI supply chain, with “very high capital requirements” and “substantial economies of scale” creating structural advantages for incumbents. The report warned that vertical relationships where cloud providers also develop and deploy AI models could “make it hard for independent model developers to compete.”

The evidence suggests not an either-or dynamic but a hierarchy: algorithmic innovation remains necessary, yet infrastructure control increasingly determines who can deploy those algorithms at scale, who can iterate fastest, and who can serve the billions of inference requests that define commercial AI success.

Infrastructure as Geopolitical Lever

The implications extend far beyond corporate competition. As the Atlantic Council noted in its assessment of how AI will shape geopolitics in 2026, national policymakers are seeking to “impose greater control over critical digital infrastructure” including compute power, cloud storage, and microchips. The push to control this infrastructure is evolving into what analysts call a “battle of the AI stacks.”

An entity that controls orbital infrastructure operates from a position of extraordinary geopolitical leverage. Satellites do not require host-country permission to overfly territory. They can provide connectivity and compute to any point on the globe, bypassing national firewalls, regulatory regimes, and infrastructure deficits. A vertically integrated space-AI platform could, in theory, offer AI services to any government or enterprise on Earth without depending on any terrestrial intermediary.

This is precisely why Europe is investing 10.6 billion euros in IRIS squared and why China is racing to deploy its own constellations. The fear is not merely commercial disadvantage but strategic dependency. If the world's most capable AI inference runs on orbital infrastructure controlled by a single American corporation, then every nation without comparable capability becomes a customer rather than a sovereign actor in the AI age. The scarcity of satellite frequency and orbital resources, governed by a “first come, first served” principle at the International Telecommunication Union, adds urgency to the deployment race.

The OECD's 2025 competition report flags the cross-border implications directly: “enforcement actions, merger reviews, and policy interventions in one jurisdiction can have global implications.” The organisation recommends that competition authorities consider “ex ante measures, such as interoperability requirements” to address the risk of abuse of dominance in AI infrastructure markets.

Huang's Davos framing is instructive here. He urged every country to “build your own AI, take advantage of your fundamental natural resource, which is your language and culture; develop your AI, continue to refine it, and have your national intelligence part of your ecosystem.” But this advice assumes access to the underlying infrastructure stack. For nations that lack domestic launch capability, satellite manufacturing, and hyperscale compute, “building your own AI” means renting someone else's stack. And the landlord's terms are not always negotiable.

The Skeptics and the Technical Realities

None of this means orbital AI infrastructure is inevitable or imminent. The technical challenges remain formidable.

Kimberly Siversen Burke, director of government affairs for Quilty Space, told Via Satellite that orbital data centres “remain speculative” as a near-term revenue driver, citing “unproven economics, aging chips, latency, and limited use cases like defence, remote sensing, and sovereign compute.” She noted that linking SpaceX to AI infrastructure demand gives the company “valuation scaffolding” but cautioned that the economics remain unproven. A constellation of one million satellites with five-year operational lives would require replacing 200,000 satellites annually just to maintain capacity, roughly 550 per day. Radiation hardening, thermal management in vacuum conditions, and limited repair capabilities all represent unsolved engineering problems at scale.

The financial picture is also sobering. xAI was reportedly burning approximately $1 billion per month prior to the merger. SpaceX's $8 billion annual profit provides a significant cushion, but orbital data centres represent capital expenditure on a scale that would strain even the most profitable company on Earth. The planned SpaceX IPO, potentially raising up to $50 billion at a valuation as high as $1.5 trillion according to the Financial Times, would provide additional capital, but investors will demand evidence that orbital compute can generate returns within a reasonable time horizon.

There is also the question of latency. Orbital infrastructure at 500 to 2,000 kilometres altitude introduces signal propagation delays that make it unsuitable for applications requiring single-digit millisecond response times. Terrestrial data centres will remain essential for latency-sensitive workloads like autonomous vehicles, high-frequency trading, and real-time robotics. Orbital compute is better suited to batch processing, model training, and inference tasks where slightly higher latency is acceptable.

Former Google CEO Eric Schmidt appears to be hedging this bet from a different angle. In March 2025, he took over as CEO of Relativity Space, a rocket startup with $2.9 billion in orders and a heavy-lift Terran R vehicle capable of carrying up to 33.5 metric tonnes to low Earth orbit, scheduled for its first launch at the end of 2026. Schmidt subsequently confirmed that his acquisition was connected to plans for orbital data centres, following congressional testimony in April 2025 where he described the “rapidly escalating energy demands of AI systems and the looming strain they are expected to place on national power infrastructure.” His approach differs from Musk's in scale and speed, but the strategic logic is identical: if terrestrial constraints are throttling AI growth, space offers an alternative path.

Consolidation on the Ground Mirrors Ambition in Orbit

The vertical integration thesis is not confined to space. On the ground, the satellite industry is consolidating rapidly. In July 2025, SES completed its $3.1 billion acquisition of Intelsat, creating a combined fleet of approximately 90 geostationary satellites and nearly 30 medium Earth orbit satellites. The FCC approved the merger partly because the combined entity would “more aggressively compete against Starlink and other LEO providers.” SES projects synergies with a total net present value of 2.4 billion euros.

This deal followed a wave of satellite industry consolidation that included Viasat's acquisition of Inmarsat and Eutelsat's acquisition of OneWeb. The FCC's order encapsulated the competitive pressures: with terrestrial fibre networks and streaming services reducing demand for satellite content distribution, legacy operators are being squeezed simultaneously by faster, higher-capacity LEO constellations. Consolidation is the survival strategy.

The satellite communication market was valued at $23.1 billion in 2024 and is growing at 12.3 per cent annually. The AI-specific segment is growing even faster, with the AI in satellite internet market projected to expand from $2.52 billion in 2025 to $8.91 billion by 2030, driven by a compound annual growth rate of 29 per cent. The pattern is consistent: companies are combining manufacturing control, AI-driven network optimisation, and cross-sector service delivery because the market rewards integration over specialisation.

From Algorithm Wars to Infrastructure Empires

The shift from algorithmic competition to infrastructure control represents something more fundamental than a change in business strategy. It represents a change in what determines power in the AI age.

For most of the past decade, the AI field operated on a relatively democratic premise. Breakthrough papers were published openly. Pre-trained models were shared on platforms like Hugging Face. Cloud compute could be rented by the hour. A brilliant researcher with a laptop and a credit card could, in principle, contribute to the frontier. DeepSeek's January 2025 release of R1 as an open-source model demonstrates that this democratic impulse remains alive.

But the infrastructure layer is not democratic. You cannot rent a rocket. You cannot subscribe to an orbital data centre. You cannot share a satellite constellation on GitHub. The physical assets required for vertically integrated space-AI infrastructure cost tens of billions of dollars, take years to deploy, and depend on regulatory approvals that only a handful of entities have the political influence to secure.

The Deloitte 2026 tech trends report frames this as “the AI infrastructure reckoning,” noting that the anticipated transition from compute expansion toward efficiency-focused orchestration results from a convergence of technological, economic, and organisational drivers. Capital constraints have reduced appetite for expansion without demonstrated returns, and organisations observing 50 to 70 per cent GPU underutilisation recognise that expansion compounds inefficiency. But orchestration still requires instruments to orchestrate. And the instruments, in this case orbital satellites, launch vehicles, terrestrial data centres, and global communication networks, are concentrating in fewer and fewer hands.

The Council on Foreign Relations, assessing how 2026 could decide the future of artificial intelligence, observed that “diffusion could be even more important than cutting-edge innovation” but acknowledged it is “harder to measure.” This distinction matters: innovation creates capability, but diffusion, the spread of that capability through infrastructure, determines who benefits from it. An entity that controls both the innovation layer and the diffusion layer holds a position that purely algorithmic competitors simply cannot match.

Whether this concentration proves beneficial or dangerous depends entirely on governance structures that do not yet exist. The regulatory frameworks designed for terrestrial telecommunications and antitrust were not built for entities that simultaneously manufacture rockets, operate global satellite networks, develop frontier AI models, and plan orbital data centres. The OECD has recommended that competition authorities “assess whether existing powers are sufficient to address potential abuses of dominance.” The answer, almost certainly, is that they are not.

The question that opened this article, whether the future of AI belongs to the best algorithm or the best infrastructure, is not quite right. The real question is whether we are comfortable with a world where the two become indistinguishable, where the algorithm and the infrastructure that runs it merge into a single system controlled by a single entity, and where the physics of rocket launches and orbital mechanics become as important to AI capability as the mathematics of gradient descent. That world is no longer hypothetical. It is being built, one satellite at a time, at a cadence of roughly 550 per day.

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References and Sources

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2. CNBC, “Musk's xAI, SpaceX combo is the biggest merger of all time, valued at $1.25 trillion,” 3 February 2026. https://www.cnbc.com/2026/02/03/musk-xai-spacex-biggest-merger-ever.html

3. CNBC, “Elon Musk's SpaceX acquiring AI startup xAI ahead of potential IPO,” 2 February 2026. https://www.cnbc.com/2026/02/02/elon-musk-spacex-xai-ipo.html

4. TechCrunch, “Elon Musk's SpaceX officially acquires Elon Musk's xAI, with plan to build data centres in space,” 2 February 2026. https://techcrunch.com/2026/02/02/elon-musk-spacex-acquires-xai-data-centers-space-merger/

5. Tom's Hardware, “SpaceX acquires xAI in a bid to make orbiting data centres a reality,” February 2026. https://www.tomshardware.com/tech-industry/artificial-intelligence/spacex-acquires-xai-in-a-bid-to-make-orbiting-data-centers-a-reality-musk-plans-to-launch-a-million-tons-of-satellites-annually-targets-1tw-year-of-space-based-compute-capacity

6. Via Satellite, “SpaceX Acquires xAI to Pursue Orbital Data Center Constellation,” 2 February 2026. https://www.satellitetoday.com/connectivity/2026/02/02/spacex-files-for-orbital-data-center-satellites-amid-xai-merger-reports/

7. Data Center Dynamics, “SpaceX files for million satellite orbital AI data centre megaconstellation,” February 2026. https://www.datacenterdynamics.com/en/news/spacex-files-for-million-satellite-orbital-ai-data-center-megaconstellation/

8. NVIDIA Newsroom, “NVIDIA Ethernet Networking Accelerates World's Largest AI Supercomputer, Built by xAI.” https://nvidianews.nvidia.com/news/spectrum-x-ethernet-networking-xai-colossus

9. HPCwire, “Colossus AI Hits 200,000 GPUs as Musk Ramps Up AI Ambitions,” 13 May 2025. https://www.hpcwire.com/2025/05/13/colossus-ai-hits-200000-gpus-as-musk-ramps-up-ai-ambitions/

10. Data Center Frontier, “The Colossus Supercomputer: Elon Musk's Drive Toward Data Center AI Technology.” https://www.datacenterfrontier.com/machine-learning/article/55244139/the-colossus-ai-supercomputer-elon-musks-drive-toward-data-center-ai-technology-domination

11. International Energy Agency, “Energy demand from AI,” 2025. https://www.iea.org/reports/energy-and-ai/energy-demand-from-ai

12. OpenAI, “Announcing The Stargate Project,” January 2025. https://openai.com/index/announcing-the-stargate-project/

13. CNBC, “Trump announces AI infrastructure investment backed by Oracle, OpenAI and SoftBank,” 21 January 2025. https://www.cnbc.com/2025/01/21/trump-ai-openai-oracle-softbank.html

14. About Amazon, “First heavy-lift launch grows constellation to 200+ satellites.” https://www.aboutamazon.com/news/innovation-at-amazon/project-kuiper-satellite-rocket-launch-progress-updates

15. European Commission, “IRIS squared: Secure Connectivity.” https://defence-industry-space.ec.europa.eu/eu-space/iris2-secure-connectivity_en

16. ESA, “ESA confirms kick-start of IRIS squared with European Commission and SpaceRISE.” https://connectivity.esa.int/archives/news/esa-confirms-kickstart-iris%C2%B2-european-commission-and-spacerise

17. China.org.cn, “China demonstrates AI computing power in outer space with satellite network breakthrough,” 13 February 2026. http://www.china.org.cn/2026-02/13/content_118333643.shtml

18. SatNews, “China Completes In-Orbit Testing of 'Three-Body' AI Computing Constellation,” 16 February 2026. https://news.satnews.com/2026/02/16/china-completes-in-orbit-testing-of-three-body-ai-computing-constellation/

19. Orbital Today, “China Launches AI-Driven Satellite Constellation to Transform Space Computing,” 15 February 2026. https://orbitaltoday.com/2026/02/15/china-launches-ai-driven-satellite-constellation-to-transform-space-computing/

20. CSIS, “DeepSeek's Latest Breakthrough Is Redefining AI Race.” https://www.csis.org/analysis/deepseeks-latest-breakthrough-redefining-ai-race

21. RAND Corporation, “DeepSeek's Lesson: America Needs Smarter Export Controls,” February 2025. https://www.rand.org/pubs/commentary/2025/02/deepseeks-lesson-america-needs-smarter-export-controls.html

22. OECD, “Competition in Artificial Intelligence Infrastructure,” November 2025. https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/2025/11/competition-in-artificial-intelligence-infrastructure_69319aee.html

23. NVIDIA Blog, “'Largest Infrastructure Buildout in Human History': Jensen Huang on AI's 'Five-Layer Cake' at Davos,” January 2026. https://blogs.nvidia.com/blog/davos-wef-blackrock-ceo-larry-fink-jensen-huang/

24. World Economic Forum, “Davos 2026: Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang on the future of AI,” January 2026. https://www.weforum.org/stories/2026/01/nvidia-ceo-jensen-huang-on-the-future-of-ai/

25. Deloitte, “The AI infrastructure reckoning: Optimising compute strategy in the age of inference economics,” 2026. https://www.deloitte.com/us/en/insights/topics/technology-management/tech-trends/2026/ai-infrastructure-compute-strategy.html

26. Atlantic Council, “Eight ways AI will shape geopolitics in 2026.” https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/dispatches/eight-ways-ai-will-shape-geopolitics-in-2026/

27. Council on Foreign Relations, “How 2026 Could Decide the Future of Artificial Intelligence.” https://www.cfr.org/articles/how-2026-could-decide-future-artificial-intelligence

28. SES, “SES Completes Acquisition of Intelsat, Creating Global Multi-Orbit Connectivity Powerhouse,” 17 July 2025. https://www.ses.com/press-release/ses-completes-acquisition-intelsat-creating-global-multi-orbit-connectivity

29. SpaceNews, “Relativity names Eric Schmidt as CEO as it updates Terran R development,” March 2025. https://spacenews.com/relativity-names-eric-schmidt-as-ceo-as-it-updates-terran-r-development/

30. TechCrunch, “Eric Schmidt joins Relativity Space as CEO,” 10 March 2025. https://techcrunch.com/2025/03/10/eric-schmidt-joins-relativity-space-as-ceo/

31. Space Insider, “Eric Schmidt's Quiet Play May be Launching AI Infrastructure Into Space Through Relativity,” 5 May 2025. https://spaceinsider.tech/2025/05/05/eric-schmidts-quiet-play-may-be-launching-ai-infrastructure-into-space-through-relativity/

32. ResearchGate, “AI Infrastructure Evolution: From Compute Expansion to Efficient Orchestration in 2026.” https://www.researchgate.net/publication/398878635_AI_Infrastructure_Evolution_From_Compute_Expansion_to_Efficient_Orchestration_in_2026

33. Harvard Business Review, “Turning Real-Time Satellite Data into a Competitive Advantage,” November 2025. https://hbr.org/2025/11/turning-real-time-satellite-data-into-a-competitive-advantage

34. Global News Wire, “Artificial Intelligence (AI) in Satellite Internet Research Report 2026: $8.91 Bn Market Opportunities,” 29 January 2026. https://www.globenewswire.com/news-release/2026/01/29/3228392/0/en/p.html

35. Futurum Group, “SpaceX Acquires xAI: Rockets, Starlink, and AI Under One Roof.” https://futurumgroup.com/insights/spacex-acquires-xai-rockets-starlink-and-ai-under-one-roof/

36. CircleID, “Chinese LEO Satellite Internet Update: Guowang, Qianfan, and Honghu-3.” https://circleid.com/posts/chinese-leo-satellite-internet-update-guowang-qianfan-and-honghu-3

37. SpaceNews, “SES to acquire Intelsat for $3.1 billion.” https://spacenews.com/ses-to-acquire-intelsat-for-3-1-billion/

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Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Jada Is Not Addicted to Porn

#nsfw #shorts

“I'm not addicted to porn,” Jada said to herself.

It was another early Saturday night. It was an ordinary night for her. She was in her home, soft music was playing. She just lit incense.

The husky smoky and sweet aroma filled her nostrils as she cupped her left breast and pinched her nipple. A low moan escaped her breath as the sensation traveled through her body.

“It's normal to touch yourself like this all day,” she thought to herself.

Jada really doesn't talk much on the weekends. She likes it that way. It's quiet. It's peaceful. She can be naked. She can be alone with her thoughts. She can touch herself.

Jada was sitting in her high end gaming chair. Fully nude with her legs spread. Her right index finger was slowly twirling her clit while another finger gently caressed her wet and open folds.

Jada's skin was a hue of smooth brown caramel. Her well planned diet and mild exercise kept her curves soft, but she was curvy in all the right ways and places. She liked her body. She looked very much like the women she saw on her screens every day. The only difference was that they had a massive following online and got paid to make pro-amateur porn.

They show their talents. They were beautifully flexible. They bravely insert dildos of size and girth that Jada only could dream about. She thinks they are so brave to be fully nude on the internet, faces showing, lets spread, presenting their womanly charms for everyone. Shameless, bold, bare, beautiful. And all of them look just like her. It felt good to see so many women that look like her feeling good all the time.

“I'm not addicted to porn,” Jada said to herself. “I just like watching them. They look so happy and free”

And Jada was right. They were happy and free. When she was in college, she would watch porn to relieve stress after hours of studying. She would steal glances on her phone just like others scrolled social media. Sometimes she would steal away to the restroom to touch herself.

Sometimes if she did really well on a test, she would hide away in her private dorm and masturbate for up to 8 hours or more for a job well done. Porn was her reward for everything she did. She's not addicted to porn because she still got good grades. She was succeeding. It wasn't a hindrance. It was empowerment. Porn was her reward.

“Porn addicts can't function without porn. They need it. I can stop any time I want. They can't hold a job like I can. They can't become a manager. They would be too busy masturbating to try to do anything productive.”

Jada rubbed her clit furiously at the idea of being so addicted to porn she can't function. The idea turns her on like nothing else. Right when she was about to cum, she stopped. “Not yet, I have more porn to watch. I need to keep going. It's ok to keep going.”

When Jada graduated, she nailed an entry level position right away. She proved her worth right away. She got glowing reviews, She got along well with her colleges, she even earned enough money to get her first apartment. That's when things escalated.

“Now that I'm on my own, I can do what I want. I have a good job, I have money in the bank. I should reward myself. I need to make my goon sessions better. I deserve it.”

After a year of steady paychecks and good reviews she got an offer to be a manager in her company. Her signing bonus was confirmation that using porn as her reward system was paying off.

So she decided to invest in her future. Jada built her ultimate goon station.

She bought a large wide desk, a high-end tower pc with massive storage, 4 monitors, and a comfortable chair. Of course she had a bed and a TV, but that's not where the action is. Her bed was small and humble, just big enough for her. Just enough to be comfortable while she scrolled porn until she fell asleep. Her couch was ok, she often played porn casually while she was eating her meals, but she just needed more screens.

One was never enough though. Sometimes, she would put her laptop on the coffee table and play porn too, but it wasn't the same. That's why she built her goon station. Her four 30 inch screens were the center of her world. They were her entertainment, her friends, her connection to all the good things in the world.

All the good things in the world are porn.

“I'm normal I can multitask. This is not an addiction.” Jada picked up her dildo and slid it slowly inside of herself savoring the moment. Years of planned control and patience has taught her how to edge for hours on end.

“Orgasms are too short, they are over too soon. Edging is better. Gooning is better. This is not porn addiction, this is a lifestyle”

And with that, Jada sat naked in her chair, edging, leaking a small puddle into the seat. Soft moans of pleasure surrounded her, filled her mind, her ears. It was the weekend after all. Young ladies in their late 20s spend all their time gooning to screens lost in pleasure. Hours passed by as she sank deeper.

Jada is normal in every way.

Cactus on the rocks, Red Rocks State Park near Sedona, AZ. 16 Feb. 2026.

If you like spectacular red rock formations everywhere you turn, then Sedona, Arizona is for you. We spent six days in Sedona last week, taking in the scenery, but also remnants of ancient indigenous cultures …

Detail from a sandstone wall at Crane Petroglyph Heritage Site in the Coconino National Forest, Rimrock, AZ. 15 Feb 2026.

And witnessing spiritual experiences by today’s indigenous inhabitants …

Native American spirtual leader playing a flute at the top of a red rock formation in Boynton Canyon, 17 Feb. 2026

More photos in the TechNewsLit photo library.

Red rocks formations panorama, 13 Feb. 2026

Copyright © Technology News and Literature. All rights reserved.

There are chapters in Scripture that refuse to sit quietly in the background of theology, chapters that push their way into the raw, unfiltered spaces of human experience and demand to be lived rather than studied. Luke 19 is one of those rare passages that won’t let you stay the same after you touch it. It begins with a man trying to hide from God behind the branches of a sycamore tree and ends with a King weeping over a city that refuses to recognize the peace standing right in front of it. In between those bookends the story unfolds like a mirror, showing you what happens when heaven walks straight into the rooms you thought were too messy, too complicated, or too compromised for divine visitation. Luke 19 does not simply narrate events; it reveals a God who steps into human history with the disruptive tenderness of someone who knows exactly what you are avoiding, exactly what you are yearning for, and exactly what it will cost to heal you. The chapter moves with a kind of spiritual momentum that refuses to let your heart stay indifferent, because every verse whispers the same quiet, persistent truth: God always comes for what belongs to Him, even when the whole world assumes you are disqualified.

What makes Luke 19 so powerful is that it speaks to anyone who has ever felt unseen, mislabeled, trapped by a past they can’t rewrite, or quietly ashamed of the life they built while trying to outrun their own emptiness. It begins with Zacchaeus, a man the people had written off as irredeemable. He wasn’t simply disliked; he was despised, considered a traitor, dismissed as beyond spiritual recovery. Yet underneath his corruption something was stirring, a hunger he couldn’t ignore, a curiosity strong enough that he climbed a tree just to catch a glimpse of Jesus. That detail is easy to overlook, but nothing is accidental in Scripture. When a grown man climbs a tree in public, he is no longer protecting his dignity; he is following the quiet ache in his soul. He wasn’t climbing because he wanted a better view of Jesus; he was climbing because he wanted to know if Jesus could see anything in him that was still worth rescuing. Luke 19 begins by reminding us that sometimes the first step toward transformation looks foolish, undignified, or childlike, and that God often finds you not when you are impressive, but when you are desperate enough to climb above the noise of your own reputation.

But the brilliance of this chapter is not that Zacchaeus climbed a tree; it’s that Jesus stopped beneath it. Jesus always stops where others pass by. He pauses where the world shrugs. He calls names where people whisper insults. He invites Himself into the homes the religious elite avoid. In that moment, standing under a sycamore tree, Jesus did more than acknowledge Zacchaeus; He announced Him. When He said “I must stay at your house today,” it was not a request, and it was not a suggestion. It was a divine insistence. It was heaven declaring, “I choose you before you clean your house, before you fix your habits, before you rewrite your story.” That one moment shatters centuries of assumptions about how God approaches sinners. Jesus didn’t wait for repentance; His presence created it. He didn’t demand transformation before entering; His entrance initiated the transformation itself. It is an upside-down kingdom where grace arrives before guilt is confessed, where love enters before shame is named, and where the Savior walks through a door the world said should remain forever locked.

Zacchaeus welcomed Him joyfully, but that joy didn’t come from moral accomplishment. It came from the realization that God had just walked straight into the darkest corners of his life without flinching. And isn’t that what we are all secretly afraid of—that if God ever truly looked inside, He would see too much damage, too much selfishness, too many choices we regret? Luke 19 confronts that fear by showing us a God who is not shocked by our sin, not intimidated by our failures, and not deterred by our past. He sees the very things we try to hide and walks toward them, not away. When Jesus steps into Zacchaeus’s home, He also steps into the relational wounds, the greed, the betrayal, and the loneliness that had built up like a wall around him. And in the presence of unconditional acceptance, something shifts inside Zacchaeus. Repentance is not forced; it is awakened. He stands before Jesus and voluntarily begins repairing the very places where his life had done the most harm. When transformation is real, it always touches the people you once wounded, because the grace that reaches you is too powerful to remain contained.

But Luke 19 is not simply a story of personal redemption; it is a declaration of divine purpose. Jesus ends His interaction with Zacchaeus with one of the most important sentences in the New Testament: “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” That truth isn’t theological poetry; it is the heartbeat of the Gospel. Jesus does not wait for the lost to find Him; He seeks them. He does not draw near to the polished, the perfect, or the put-together; He enters the home of the man everyone hated. And He doesn’t merely forgive; He restores. That one sentence is a direct confrontation to every lie that says you must earn your worth, perform your identity, or apologize your way into God’s approval. It is the divine insistence that rescue is God’s initiative, not ours. Zacchaeus wasn’t saved because he changed; he changed because he was found.

And then the chapter pivots. Jesus moves from a house filled with new repentance to a parable about a nobleman entrusting his servants with resources before leaving for a distant country. It is not a random transition; it is a continuation of the same theme. The man who had misused wealth is now surrounded by a parable that reveals how God expects His people to treat the resources He gives them. The parable of the minas is not about financial capitalism; it is about spiritual responsibility. It is the story of a God who entrusts His people with influence, opportunity, calling, and potential. And it challenges every believer to ask a question many avoid: what have you done with what heaven placed in your hands? Not compared to anyone else, not measured against culture, not evaluated through worldly metrics, but what have you done with the unique calling God assigned to you?

This parable is often misunderstood because we read it through the lens of modern productivity, but the heart of the story is not about performance; it is about trust. The nobleman gives each servant something valuable and expects them to engage, risk, invest, and multiply. But the third servant hides his gift, terrified of doing the wrong thing. Fear always buries potential. Fear always convinces you to protect what God called you to expand. Fear always whispers that playing small is safer than stepping into responsibility. Jesus uses this parable to expose how often believers bury their spiritual callings under the weight of insecurity, comparison, and self-protection. And by placing this parable immediately after the story of Zacchaeus, Luke is teaching us that God’s grace not only saves you; it sends you. Salvation is not the end of your story; it is the beginning of your assignment.

But Luke 19 does something profound after the parable. It shifts from private transformation to public revelation. Jesus begins His entry into Jerusalem, riding not a warhorse, but a donkey—a deliberate act of fulfilled prophecy. It is a moment dripping with symbolism, a moment where the King arrives in humility rather than domination, peace rather than force, vulnerability rather than spectacle. The crowds erupt in praise, laying down their cloaks and shouting blessings. It looks like a coronation, a celebration, the moment Israel has been waiting for. But appearances can be deceiving. The same voices crying out in worship would soon cry out in accusation. The same hands waving branches would later point toward crucifixion. Jesus knows every contradiction in the human heart, yet He rides forward anyway, not because the moment is flattering, but because the mission is eternal.

And yet the part of Luke 19 that cuts the deepest is not the cheering crowd; it’s the tears of Jesus. As He approaches the city, He begins to weep—not soft tears, but deep, aching sorrow. He weeps because the people do not recognize the peace offered to them. He weeps because they wanted deliverance more than relationship, victory more than surrender, revolution more than repentance. They wanted a king who met their expectations, not a Savior who exposed their need. And in that moment you see the heart of God revealed in a way that theologians have struggled to articulate for centuries. The King who could command angels to reshape history instead weeps over the unbelief of His people. He does not rage; He grieves. He does not retaliate; He laments. Because divine love is not indifferent to human resistance. It aches for what could have been, what should have been, what must be chosen freely by the human heart.

The final scene of the chapter often gets reduced to an image of anger, but it is far more layered than that. Jesus enters the temple and drives out the merchants who had turned sacred space into a marketplace. This was not an outburst; it was a prophetic act of restoration. The house meant for prayer had become a place of exploitation, distraction, and corruption. Jesus wasn’t simply cleansing a building; He was reclaiming the space where heaven and earth were meant to meet. And by ending the chapter this way, Luke ties everything together: God enters the places the world has misused, He restores what people have contaminated, and He refuses to allow sacred things to be treated casually. Zacchaeus’s house was restored. The temple was restored. Soon the world itself would be restored through a cross no one expected.

This is where Luke 19 becomes personal in a way no reader can avoid. The chapter is not asking whether Jesus has passed by your life; it is asking whether you are willing to let Him enter. It asks whether you are hiding behind excuses the same way Zacchaeus hid behind branches. It asks whether you are burying your calling the way the servant buried his mina. It asks whether your worship is genuine or merely emotional enthusiasm that disappears when obedience becomes costly. It asks whether you recognize the peace being offered to you or whether you are missing it while waiting for God to operate on your terms. And it asks whether the temple of your own heart is a place of prayer or a marketplace of distraction. Luke 19 is not a chapter that whispers; it confronts you with the evidence that God is always closer, more intentional, more disruptive, and more compassionate than you realized.

What strikes me as I move deeper into the flow of Luke 19 is how the chapter refuses to let anyone cling to a shallow version of faith. It does not allow you to treat Jesus like an idea or a distant historical figure. It forces you to confront Him as a living presence who walks straight into the unsettled rooms of your soul. Zacchaeus did not encounter a concept; he encountered a Person. The crowds did not wave palms at a philosophy; they celebrated a King. The city did not reject a metaphor; it rejected the very embodiment of peace standing in front of it. And the temple was not cleansed by an abstraction; it was cleansed by hands that carried both gentleness and authority at the same time. Luke 19 reveals a Savior who can step into a sinner’s living room with tenderness and then step into a temple with righteous disruption. It paints a portrait of a God who comforts the broken and confronts the corrupt, a God who heals what is wounded and overturns what is profane, a God who walks into your life with compassion but never compromises His holiness. This duality is not contradiction; it is completeness. The God who loves you enough to eat at your table is the same God who loves you enough to overturn every lie you’ve believed about yourself.

As I reflect on Luke 19 through the lens of its full emotional range, it becomes clear that the entire chapter is designed to expose the human heart in all its layers. It reveals the curiosity of Zacchaeus, who wants to see Jesus but is unsure if Jesus wants to see him. It reveals the resentment of the crowd, convinced that some people deserve grace and others do not. It reveals the fear of the servant who hides the gift instead of using it. It reveals the enthusiasm of the worshipers who praise Jesus as long as He fits their expectations. It reveals the heartbreak of a Savior who stands above a city He loves and weeps because they cannot see their own day of visitation. And it reveals the courage of a King who walks into a corrupted temple to restore its purpose. All these emotional movements are not isolated scenes; they are threads woven into the same fabric, exposing the realities of human nature and the consistency of divine love. Luke 19 invites every reader to locate themselves somewhere in the chapter, not to condemn them, but to awaken them to a God who moves toward them even when they are afraid to move toward Him.

The more I dwell on the story of Zacchaeus, the more I realize that his repentance was not a response to guilt; it was a response to being truly seen. Something powerful happens when God sees you without flinching. The shame that seemed permanent becomes temporary. The sin that felt immovable gets displaced by grace. The identity shaped by criticism and self-protection begins to collapse under the weight of divine acceptance. Repentance becomes less about fear and more about alignment, less about punishment and more about restoration, less about obligation and more about revelation. Zacchaeus didn’t change because he was threatened; he changed because Jesus stepped into his home with a love that revealed the truth of who he was always meant to be. When grace enters that deeply, it does not just modify your decisions; it rewires your desires. It awakens the kind of transformation that does not need to be forced or performed because it is no longer external; it is internal, organic, and undeniable.

But transformation does not end with restoration; it moves into responsibility. That is why the parable of the minas is such a critical second movement in the symphony of this chapter. It is God saying to every redeemed heart, “What you do with what I gave you now matters.” It is the reminder that grace does not end with rescue; it expands into assignment. You were not saved so you could settle; you were saved so you could serve with purpose, courage, and conviction. Yet many people live like the third servant, holding tightly to what was meant to be invested, preserving what was meant to be expanded, storing what was meant to be sown. That servant’s fear did not just rob him of productivity; it robbed him of partnership with the kingdom. God is not displeased when you try and fail; He is displeased when you refuse to try. The parable is not about performance; it is about participation. The minas were not tests of skill; they were invitations to trust. And when you live with the mindset of scarcity, you bury the very calling God entrusted to your hands. Luke 19 refuses to let believers settle for that mindset. It confronts the soul with the truth that faith without engagement becomes stagnation, and stagnation eventually becomes loss.

Then, as if the chapter wants to stretch the human heart even further, Jesus moves from teaching to embodiment. He steps onto a donkey and begins the descent into Jerusalem in an act of kingship that looks not like worldly power, but like divine humility. This moment is often read triumphantly, but there is a fragility to it that becomes clearer the more you sit with it. Jesus is riding toward the fulfillment of prophecy, but He is also riding toward rejection, betrayal, and crucifixion. The people cheering Him do not understand Him. They celebrate Him, but they do not see His mission. They praise Him with their voices, but they do not grasp the cost He is about to pay for their salvation. And yet He keeps riding. That is the beauty of Luke 19. It reveals a Savior whose love is not contingent on human consistency. He does not stop loving because people misunderstand Him. He does not withdraw His mission because devotion fades. He does not require perfect loyalty to continue pouring out perfect love. The King who enters Jerusalem on a donkey is a King who knows exactly how fragile human praise is, and yet He rides onward because His love is stronger than their confusion.

The moment Jesus reaches the city and begins to weep, something sacred unfolds that is easy to miss if you read too quickly. This is not the cry of defeat; this is the cry of divine heartbreak. It is the sound of a God who has given everything and watches humanity walk past peace as if it were invisible. He weeps because they long for answers but reject the truth. He weeps because they pray for deliverance but ignore the Deliverer. He weeps because they have cried for centuries for God to come near, and now that He stands before them, they cannot recognize Him. These tears reveal something that theology alone cannot articulate: God is not unmoved by human unbelief. He is not indifferent to spiritual blindness. He does not shrug at the resistance of the heart. He aches for it. He feels it. He grieves it. Divine sorrow is not weakness; it is evidence of divine love. And when you allow yourself to grasp that, Luke 19 becomes more than a chapter; it becomes a revelation of the God who feels more deeply for you than you have ever felt for Him.

That is why the cleansing of the temple must be understood as an act of love rather than anger. Jesus was not erupting; He was restoring. The house of prayer had become a place of noise, transaction, and distraction. It had lost its essence, its purity, its purpose. When Jesus overturned the tables, He was overturning everything that blocked authentic communion with God. He was removing the barriers between the people and the presence. He was reclaiming holy space that had been invaded by the cares and commerce of the world. And if you bring that image into your own life, you begin to see how often God has done the same in your heart. There are moments when His love disrupts your patterns, overturns your habits, exposes your compromises, or removes the things you thought you needed because they were quietly draining your spiritual strength. Divine disruption is often the doorway to spiritual freedom, and Luke 19 paints it vividly enough that no believer can avoid its implications. God will not allow sacred things in your life to be treated casually. He will confront whatever tries to replace prayer, purpose, or purity.

When the chapter closes with Jesus teaching daily in the temple, you see the full picture come together. He rescued the lost in Zacchaeus’s home. He entrusted purpose through the parable of the minas. He received worship during His entry into Jerusalem. He wept over the blindness of the city. He cleansed the temple of corruption. And then He taught, as if to say: this is what I came for—to restore, to reveal, to redeem, to renew. Luke 19 is a journey from hidden branches to holy spaces, from personal salvation to public proclamation, from private homes to public temples, from individual redemption to collective accountability. It is a chapter that touches every dimension of human life, because it reveals every dimension of God’s heart. And when you allow it to settle into your spirit, you begin to see that the God who walked into Zacchaeus’s house is the same God who walks into yours, the same God who entrusts you with calling, the same God who receives your worship, the same God who grieves your resistance, and the same God who restores what has been misused. Luke 19 becomes an invitation to let Him all the way in, not partially, not conditionally, but completely.

In the end, Luke 19 forces a decision. Not the decision of a moment, but the decision of a lifetime. Will you climb the tree to see Him even when you feel unworthy? Will you open the door when He calls you by name? Will you use the purpose He placed in your hands, or bury it under fear? Will your worship be emotional excitement or genuine surrender? Will you recognize the peace being offered to you right now, or will you let it pass by while waiting for something more familiar? Will you allow Him to cleanse the places in your soul where compromise has taken root? Luke 19 leaves no heart untouched, because it reveals a God who refuses to leave you untouched. It reveals a Savior who seeks the lost, a King who rides toward His mission with humility, a Redeemer who weeps for what humanity cannot see, and a Holy Presence who restores what has been desecrated. And when you let this chapter speak to you deeply enough, you begin to realize that the same God who entered Jericho, Jerusalem, and the temple is entering your life with the same intentionality, the same urgency, and the same love.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@douglasvandergraph

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/douglasvandergraph

In Summary: * Listening now to the Spurs Countdown Show ahead of tonight's game. High point of my day was waking up and finding that my vision had returned to normal. Well.. my normal, anyway. As it was yesterday before receiving the intravitreal injections in my eyes. Man, it took the rest of yesterday, after the shots, to recover from them. But I slept very well last night, woke in a good mood, and have enjoyed a quiet, restful Saturday. Looking forward to enjoying the Spurs game tonight, then retiring to another good night's sleep.

Prayers, etc.: * I have a daily prayer regimen I try to follow throughout the day from early morning, as soon as I roll out of bed, until head hits pillow at night. Details of that regimen are linked to my link tree, which is linked to my profile page here.

Starting Ash Wednesday, 2026, I'll be adding this daily prayer as part of the Prayer Crusade Preceding SSPX Episcopal Consecrations.

Health Metrics: * bw= 226.64 lbs. * bp= 143/84 (66)

Exercise: * morning stretches, balance exercises, kegel pelvic floor exercises, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups

Diet: * 07:10 – 1 banana * 08:35 – 1 peanut butter sandwich * 10:50 – pork chops, mashed potatoes, whole kernel corn, garden salad * 15:00 – 1 fresh apple

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 07:20 – bank accounts activity monitored * 07:30 – read, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, and nap * 10:00 – listen to ESPN Radio * 11:00 – listening to NCAA men's basketball, Minnesota Golden Gophers vs Rutgers Scarlet Knights, live radio feed from the Gophers Sports Network * 14:30 – listening to relaxing music, reading, praying. * 18:00 – tuning into 1200 WOAI, the proud flagship of the San Antonio Spurs, well ahead of the Spurs game tonight vs. the Sacramento Kings. Go Spurs Go!

Chess: * 14:00 – moved in all pending CC games

I don’t want to sleep so I am listening to some music 16 horsepower and I hear also the little small black dog, snoring surprisingly loudly, for he is — like I said — very small

But his heart is bigger than the whole house

And the orange dog is resting quietly by my side. She is breathing too: I feel her chest rising and falling under my palm.

She is my favourite

These two dogs have been type of guides, because they have been leading the way out of a darkness into the warmth of spring, so to speak.

Their unrelenting love and care has been of great help.

And now I don’t want to fall asleep because I don’t want this day to end

But it will.

My friend he sent me this song “We Don’t Talk” by Hilary Duff, because she (Hilary Duff, not my friend) also has no contact with her own sister, so this song — of course — struck a chord in me.

Presumably Hilary Duff’s sister is jealous that she’s known only as Hilary Duff’s sister, rather than by her own birth name.

And I have a similar situation where I’ve only ever been happy for my sister’s prosperity, but she’s apparently always been jealous of mine

And me, I am successful (just like Hilary Duff)

But at least now I know

It’s better to know

I think

I signed the offer from Sh without any negotations, and with the hourly rate I initially offered, hooray! I celebrated by eating out I got a nice run in the rain afterwards.

There are moments when the mind wanders into questions so large they almost feel like they belong to another world, and yet they reveal something essential about our own. I found myself wrestling with one of those questions: what truth about God would still remain if every church on earth disappeared tomorrow? It is a staggering image to imagine an entire globe without steeples stretching into the sky or sanctuaries humming with worship, to imagine every building boarded up and every door locked, to picture a world where the familiar rhythm of Sunday morning is suddenly interrupted by silence. Yet this image forces the heart to confront a reality most people never fully consider, which is the truth that God has never depended on buildings to reveal Himself or to sustain the faith of those who seek Him. If anything, the disappearance of structures would strip away the last illusions we hold about where God lives, how God moves, and what God desires most from us. Long before humanity ever built a sanctuary, God walked freely among people, and long after every sanctuary crumbles into dust, God’s presence will remain as strong, as radiant, and as accessible as it has always been. The disappearance of buildings would not mark the disappearance of God, but rather the revelation of His true home within the human heart.

To understand this fully, you have to step back and remember that the story of God and humanity did not begin with vaulted ceilings or stained-glass windows. It began in a garden where Adam walked with God without intermediaries, without rituals, and without architecture. God’s first sanctuary had no walls, no pews, no altars, and no programs, and yet it pulsed with intimacy, communion, and divine nearness. Abraham encountered God beneath a sky scattered with stars, without a temple in sight. Jacob wrestled with the divine presence in the dark of night, lying on the bare ground with nothing but a stone beneath his head. Moses heard God’s voice in a burning bush on the side of an unremarkable mountain. Elijah encountered God not in the wind or the earthquake or the fire, but in a whisper that could be felt more than heard. David found God in caves, in fields, in desperate prayer, and in fierce tears. These encounters were not diminished because they lacked a sacred building; they were strengthened by the realization that God has never been confined to human structures. The entire biblical narrative testifies to a God who refuses to be limited by the walls we build for Him, who shows up where we least expect Him, and who draws near in ways that defy every human attempt to contain Him.

When you step into that truth, you begin to see that the disappearance of churches would not erase Christianity; it would expose its essence. The early church did not grow because they had the most impressive buildings; they had none. They did not transform the Roman Empire by hosting the largest services; they had no public worship gatherings for nearly three centuries. They did not disciple nations because they possessed influence or political leverage; they were marginalized, hunted, persecuted, and often killed. Their power was not architectural; it was relational. Their strength was not found in public gatherings but in private devotion. Their influence was not the result of structures but of souls on fire. When they prayed, prison doors opened. When they preached, hearts burned. When they loved, entire cities stopped to marvel. They understood something we often forget, which is that the Church is not a place we attend but a presence we carry. If every church disappeared tomorrow, the truth that would remain is that the Spirit of God cannot be exiled from the earth and cannot be separated from the believer.

But this leads to a deeper question: if the structures suddenly vanished, what would remain of your faith? Would you feel lost without the rhythm, the schedule, the physical reminder that you belong somewhere? Or would you rise with a new sense of personal responsibility, realizing that the presence of God was never meant to be an occasional visitation but a continual habitation within you? We live in a world where many believers have unconsciously anchored their spiritual lives to buildings, programs, and leaders. These things are beautiful, but they are not the foundation. Churches help, but they are not the source. Pastors guide, but they are not the Shepherd. Worship teams inspire, but they are not the presence. Community supports, but it is not the root. The moment we confuse the structure with the Source, we weaken our connection to the living God, because anything built by human hands can be shaken, but the One who established the heavens and the earth cannot be moved.

Sometimes God allows things in our lives to be stripped away so that we can rediscover communion rather than routine. There are believers who learned to pray not because they attended a service, but because life pushed them into a corner where they had no choice but to seek Him for themselves. There are people who learned Scripture not because someone preached it, but because they were desperate for answers and opened the Bible in the stillness of night. There are men and women who learned to worship not because music played, but because their soul could no longer bear silence. There is a sacredness in realizing that God becomes most real when foundations crumble, because He alone remains when everything else falls apart. This is true not only for the Church at large, but for every individual who has ever faced a moment where life as they knew it collapsed in front of them.

Most people have experienced a moment where the structure of their life fell apart. A marriage dissolved. A career ended. A reputation cracked. A dream broke. A season shifted so abruptly that it felt like standing in the ruins of a building you once trusted. When that happens, it is easy to assume that God is somehow less present, that the collapse of what is familiar signals the withdrawal of what is divine. Yet the mystery of God is that He does His greatest work in the spaces where everything familiar has been stripped away. When the Israelites were pushed into the wilderness, God led them with fire by night and cloud by day. When Jonah ran from his calling, God met him in the belly of despair. When Paul lost everything he once counted as accomplishment, God rebuilt him into a messenger whose words still shake the world. When the disciples hid in fear after the crucifixion, Jesus walked through locked doors to breathe peace into their shattered souls. God does not wait for structures to be rebuilt before He reveals Himself. He reveals Himself precisely where structures fall.

So, if every church disappeared tomorrow, the world would not suddenly be empty of God. In fact, it might become clearer than ever where God has always been found. He would be found in the quiet prayers whispered before dawn. He would be found in the forgiveness offered by someone who has every reason to stay angry. He would be found in the strength of a mother fighting for her children, in the integrity of a man choosing honesty at a personal cost, in the courage of someone stepping out in faith even when they cannot see the road ahead. He would be found in every moment where the unseen becomes more real than the seen. God has always been a God who moves among people, not merely within places, and that truth cannot be erased by the disappearance of structures.

And yet, there is another layer to this vision that deserves attention. If every church vanished, believers might begin to rediscover what it means to carry the presence of God into everyday spaces. The early Christians did not wait for Sunday to talk about Jesus; they lived Him openly and boldly. They shared meals, prayers, stories, and struggles. Their lives became the platform for their message long before any building existed. They understood that faith spread through households, conversations, and acts of compassion. Strangers encountered the gospel not in sanctuaries but in streets, marketplaces, and workplaces. The disappearance of churches today would not signal the end of faith, but the rebirth of a movement that has always thrived outside of walls. It would force believers to reclaim an identity that has been too often outsourced to institutions: the identity of being a living temple of God.

As you picture a world where every church building has vanished, you begin to see how easily we forget the original design of the faith we claim. Christianity was never born inside a sanctuary; it was ignited inside hearts. It was not shaped by committees but by convictions, not by programs but by personal transformation, not by liturgy but by lives that were visibly changed by encounters with God. The absence of buildings would force us to rediscover a truth that modern believers often overlook, the truth that gathering is powerful but God does not require architecture to make Himself known. In fact, some of the most profound spiritual awakenings in history did not begin in cathedrals but in fields, in homes, in caves, in prisons, and in unexpected corners of society. Faith spreads wherever people live out the presence of God with sincerity, boldness, humility, and love. When you remember that, you begin to understand that the disappearance of churches would not weaken the gospel but might purify it, drawing believers back to the heart of what God always meant faith to be.

Yet many people struggle with the idea of losing structures because buildings give us a sense of identity and belonging. When someone asks, “Where do you go to church?” they are often asking, “Where do you fit?” or “Where do you find your spiritual home?” But the truth is, your spiritual home was never meant to be a building. Your spiritual home is the presence of God resting within you, guiding you, shaping you, convicting you, comforting you, and transforming you from the inside out. Buildings create fellowship, but presence creates identity. Architecture creates familiarity, but encounters create faith. And if every church disappeared tomorrow, the loss of familiarity might feel devastating at first, but the rediscovery of identity would be life-changing. You would remember that you are the temple of the Holy Spirit, that God’s presence is not a place you visit but a Source you carry. Identity rooted in external structures is fragile. Identity rooted in God is unbreakable.

This brings us to something that carries enormous weight once you reflect on it deeply. If church buildings disappeared, many believers would discover that their relationship with God was anchored to routine more than intimacy. Not because they lacked sincerity, but because they had been conditioned to experience God primarily through scheduled gatherings rather than continual communion. Without the reminders, the music, the sermons, or the environment, some would initially feel disconnected. But in that disconnection, something beautiful would begin to happen. They would learn to hear God in the quiet again. They would learn to seek His presence in the ordinary again. They would learn to lean on Him because they want Him, not because a structure guided them toward Him. It is not that church gatherings are unnecessary; they are deeply valuable. But they were always meant to support your relationship with God, not replace it.

And then there is this truth: God often does His deepest work outside of familiar structures. When people lose the comfort of routine, they gain the opportunity for renewal. When they cannot rely on a building to remind them to worship, worship becomes more sincere. When they cannot rely on a sermon to feed them spiritually, Scripture becomes alive in their own hands. When they cannot rely on a pastor to carry the spiritual weight, responsibility rises within them. This is not a dismissal of the beauty of the Church; it is an acknowledgment that God has always been larger than it. The removal of structures does not remove His presence; it reveals whether we were depending on Him or depending on the routine. And in that revelation, faith becomes either exposed or refined.

Now imagine what might happen globally if believers had to rediscover faith in its rawest form. People would begin praying again because they need God, not because prayer was scheduled. They would begin repenting because conviction stirred their conscience, not because it was part of a formal invitation. They would begin to worship because gratitude overflowed, not because they were led by a choir. They would begin to witness because the presence of God inside them could not stay silent, not because outreach was planned. Communities would form naturally, out of shared hunger and shared devotion, not because a building provided a meeting space. What began as an imagined crisis would become a spiritual recalibration. God would not be diminished. God would become more visible.

You would also see faith become more active. Without structures to lean on, believers would step more boldly into their calling. Some would begin hosting gatherings in their homes. Others would begin praying with co-workers or strangers. Some would begin studying Scripture with others who have questions. Faith would stop being something observed and would become something embodied. The Kingdom of God would not shrink; it would spread into places where traditional structures once struggled to reach. The divine presence would infiltrate spaces that were once untouched: street corners, parks, break rooms, households, public squares, prison cells, nursing homes, shelters, schools, and anywhere people find themselves in need of hope. This is not fantasy; this is precisely how the early Church expanded across continents. What we call “the church” today is the byproduct of what happened when believers relied on presence more than place.

And still, beneath all of this, there lies a more intimate truth that touches the core of the human soul. If every church disappeared tomorrow, God’s love for you would remain exactly the same. Your worth would not decrease. Your purpose would not fade. Your prayers would not lose their power. The disappearance of buildings would not silence God any more than the disappearance of light silences the sun. He would continue speaking through Scripture, dreams, burdens, convictions, moments of clarity, and whispers that reach you when no one else knows what you are carrying. You would still feel His strength when you are weak, His comfort when you are grieving, His guidance when you are uncertain, and His peace when the world around you is unraveling.

And this leads us to the most powerful revelation of all: if every church disappeared tomorrow, God would rebuild His movement the same way He started it—not with structures, but with people. He would begin with individuals awakened to the reality of His presence inside them. He would begin with hearts that burn to know Him, not just know about Him. He would begin with those who are willing to carry His presence into the world rather than wait for the world to come to a building. He would begin with anyone who says yes. And from those yeses, a movement would rise that no persecution, no collapse, no crisis, no government, no culture, and no force of darkness could stop. This movement would not look like what we have known, but it would look unmistakably like Jesus. It would be a movement of compassion, courage, healing, forgiveness, humility, conviction, and radical love. It would be a movement that cannot be contained, because God Himself cannot be contained.

The more you sit with this question, the more you realize that the disappearance of churches does not reveal God’s absence—it reveals His resilience. If everything familiar crumbled, God would still stand. If everything we leaned on vanished, God would still lead. If everything we trusted fell apart, God would still be faithful. He is not sustained by architecture. He is not strengthened by attendance. He is not upheld by tradition. He is God, eternal and unchanging, and His presence fills every crack where human structures fail.

So if every church disappeared tomorrow, what truth about God would still remain? The truth that He has never lived in buildings made by human hands. The truth that His presence has never depended on brick or stone. The truth that He has always pursued the heart more than the structure. The truth that He is nearer than your breath, stronger than your fears, deeper than your doubts, and more present in your life than any building could ever be. And the truth that, when everything else is stripped away, God alone remains—faithful, steady, unshaken, and eternally committed to those who seek Him. That is the truth that cannot disappear, because it is the truth He wrote into the fabric of creation itself.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@douglasvandergraph

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/douglasvandergraph

What Is Agency and What Is Depression?

My thoughts are my own. The idea that someone can make me think or feel a certain way is false. We can be manipulated to an extent, but we all have agency. You cannot make me clench my fist and raise up my right arm. However, are my thoughts my own or those of the depression?

I suppose the reality is that the depression and I are one. Perhaps I am trying to other the depression to distance myself from the harmful thoughts. The thoughts in question are the darkest ones. Or, are these thoughts only taboo because of our culture?

Forms of Ideation

The dark thoughts in question are suicidal ideation. In therapy and in blogs I have shared that my shame, the self-critic, feels like a gateway to ideation. I can recognize that the feelings are those I experience during suicidal ideation. For me, it is connected, but I am not saying others are wired that way. Lately, I have been questioning my disintrest in my physical health. Yet, someone's random question of where I want to be buried or have my ashes spread immediately brought me to my overwhelming fear of death.

My psychiatrist used to ask the same question when these black and white thoughts came to me, “Can it be both?” Sure I can be afraid of death and also see it as an escape from the pain and exhaustion. Is the fear of death motivated by some ancient survival mechanism in our brain that won't let us pruposely drown?

Be Healthy or Be Me?

I am getting older. My parter is doing the right things as she works out and is trying to eat better. I feel as if all I have time for is work and sleep. When could I find time or energy to work out? I will also admit that I eat my feelings. There's a voice in my head, “If no one sees you eat it, did you?” I happily lap up that advice. That stolen moment in the car with those McDonalds' fries is something I did for me.

I guess this is another question of my agency as a person. Am I eating junkfood because it makes me feel good or because it is something I have control of in this world? In university, I learned that death certificates must have a reason on them. In other words, you cannot simply have the cause of death as “they were old.” There must be a medical reason like heart failure. We obfiscate the idea that age is related to death. In the same way, I don't think eating two rows of oreo cookies is going to kill me. Diabetes will be the cause. Therefore, it is the disease and not the cookies, so I might as well eat the last row of cookies too.

Am I immature or irresponsible for eating unhealthy foods? My sense of shame loves that idea. What an excellent source of pleasure. I get to have my cake and eat it too. I continue to beat myself up with depression and have chocolate.

Highs And Lows

My blood pressue is a concern at the moment. For much of my adult life, my blood pressure has been low, sometimes dangerously so. Suddenly, it has been registering as high blood pressure. My blood sugars are also very high, as if that wasn't clear from the previous confession above. Medication for diabetes was doing great work before. I was also not working full time.

Would I eat better and exercise more if I wasn't working full time? Well, if the past is any indicator I am not certain. When I wasn't working full time, I was ashamed that I was broken. I continually scolded myself for not being like others. How can everyone around me have a full time job and do all the things that paralyze me with anxiety?

What would happen if I wasn't working isn't clear because I really tried after my breakdown. I tried to eath healthier and work out. I was more successful. As I like to say, it is a full time job dealing with anxiety and depression. When I am working, it is all about shoving all that aside to get the work done. My reward for getting through the day is those stolen moments of eating someting I should not.

Is rewarding myself with junkfood my choice or another obfiscation? Is my depression and shame pulling the strings to keep me in that state of self-loathing?

Uncomfortable to Swallow

My inner debate is likely another red hering. I hesitate to admit that there is a part of me who thinks the poor heart health and afront to my diabetes through stolen moments of sweets is just part of a slower suicide. The thoughts that arrive when I think about stopping for ice cream or decide to sleep in instead of working out are along the lines of “Why does it matter?” Is this a life worth living?

It is very hard to admit that these are things that go through my mind because the people around me that are not neurodivergent have difficulty understanding it. They are part of my life, am I saying I'd rather not be around them? Of course, I am not saying that. They don't live in my head. They experience the world differently than I do.

In my mind the invasive thoughts are like an endless rain.

The world we all live in is a dour place at the moment. Many seek to escape it by not watching the news or clinging onto hope that things will change somehow. I cannot think capitalism would suddenly change over night. Furthermore, therapy really taught me that my feelings are not wrong. I need to embrace my feelings, not lock them away or try to esape them.

I suppose it is a perspective thing. Maybe the sage advice is to concentrate on what you can do for yourself and to not try to fix the whole world. However, as I stand in the storm of depression raging in my head it looks to me that this is how the world went wrong, thinking of only ourselves.Though, considering that everything I am going through is because of me, perhaps it is sage advice. If I think helping myself won't make the world a better place, why should I try?

Maybe that's the depression talking again. Maybe it is me?

The moon outside is aglow like a pale banana lamp on the star-clear dark blue sky. A wintery fairytale!

And here sits I, with the family. and also: the fires burning in the fire place and the fires burning in my soul!

I just watched Christina Aguilera ft. Lil Kim — can’t hold us down on the TV, and it struck me like a hammer! It’s just such an awesome track! Sassy! with these small purple shorts and the other street fashion they just deliver this powerful feminist message, which saddens me somewhat to hear, because I feel we’re moving in the wrong direction lately.

Lil Kim’s line about the double standards now to me has an ominous ring to them

But the tables about to turn  I bet my fame on it

You know?

I hate man pigs! let that be plainly stated here!!

and what the fuck is a trad wife?

No thanks

🤌🤌🤌🤌

[Je parle d’idées noires]

Répit. Le médicament du matin n’est plus là. A moins que ce soit juste mon horaire habituel de clarté mentale.

C’était bien, ces deux-trois semaines à fond les ballons. Je ne listerai pas tout ce que j’ai fait, de raisonnable à déraisonnable. Par exemple, m’inscrire sur 2 cours différents de sport, pour reprendre doucement… vraiment ? Y en a un qui m’a tuée, au passage. On va se contenter des étirements merci.

Et même les étirements, c’est vertiges et compagnie. C’est revenir en trottinant quelques mètres sous la pluie parce que je me fais arroser par les voitures, au bord du malaise.

Le fossé entre ce que je pouvais faire avant, il y a quelques années, et maintenant quand l’épuisement frappe, est cruel.

Les phases up me redonnent de l’énergie mais m’enlèvent du sommeil, et en une semaine j’ai l’impression de devenir un cadavre. La Fatigue me rattrape et rend ce plaisir fugitif. J’ai eu “de la chance” que ça dure si longtemps cette fois.

Le contrôle que j’avais sur mon corps, que je pensais avoir sur mon esprit, n’est plus là. Grève.

Que je pensais avoir. Je pensais aller bien, vraiment, quel kif, je peux bouger, j’organise plein de trucs, je passe par quelques monts et vaux et j’admire la neige au passage.

Madame veut quand même me voir chaque semaine. C’est risible, je ne vais pas si mal. Je ne prends pas les ponts pour des solutions, je ne fais pas de crise d’angoisse tous les deux pas.

J’ai juste écrit, dans une tentative de noter des trucs cools que j’ai envie de faire dans ma vie, que je ne méritais rien et surtout pas d’être heureuse. Franchement, pas de quoi se formaliser. Je vis comme ça depuis si longtemps, c’est mon normal à moi.

Parce que j’ai un catalogue de situations improbables autour de moi ou avec moi, je n’arrive pas à comprendre la vie intérieure des gars qui pensent que les merdes n’arrivent qu’aux autres et que je me prends la tête pour rien.

Ce trou noir qui aspire tout réconfort.

Et parfois, une petite chanson qui n’a l’air de rien. Elle me comprend, elle fait sortir un mélange de douleur et de douceur ensemble, il y a un peu de lumière et de vie.

Angèle, “Tout oublier”

November Ultra, “November”

Pauline Croze, “T’es beau”

Manu Chao, “Minha Galera”

Emma Peters, “Clandestina”

The Cranberries, “No need to argue”

Trio Mandili, “Galoba”

#Spurs vs. Kings

My radio game this Saturday night comes from the NBA and has the Sacramento Kings traveling to Texas to meet my San Antonio Spurs up the road in Austin. With a start time of 07:00 PM Local Time, this game fits nicely into my schedule of choice. And given the teams' respective W-L records this year (Kings 12-45, Spurs 39-16) I'm reasonably confident my Spurs will win. That's always good for my state of mind.

And the adventure continues.

Estou fazendo justamente o que eu disse ontem mesmo que não deveria fazer, estou escrevendo isso aqui cedo demais hoje.

Acontece que existe um livro, ou melhor, existe uma peça de teatro chamada de: O Céu da Língua, de Gregorio Duvivier. Estava lendo o seu roteiro ontem, e vi essa parte sobre despedidas e quis vir compartilhar com você.

Acho que de certo modo, essas cartas são minha eterna despedida, a fim de nunca dizer adeus.

…Até porque a DESPEDIDA é uma palavra nossa. Que a gente não dá muito valor. Em inglês eles falam say goodbye. Ou decir adiós. Dire au revoir. Em muitas línguas se despedir é dizer tchau.

A despedida não é dizer adeus, mas é a cerimônia do adeus.

Só uma língua que inventou a saudade poderia ter inventado a despedida.

Se a saudade é a presença de uma ausência, a despedida é o prenúncio dessa ausência.

Nos despedimos porque sabemos que vamos sentir saudades, e a despedida vai ajudar na saudade futura.

Se despedir é tornar presente aquilo que não estará.

Por isso a gente gosta de se despedir. E passa a vida se despedindo.

Tem a saída a francesa, que é sair sem se despedir, e a saída a brasileira, que é se despedir sem sair.

A gente chega na festa falando: só to dando uma passada. Meia-hora depois, to indo, tá gente. As 4 da manhã ela tá lá. Pronto, agora realmente já deu. E a Cida, heim? Deu uma engordada. A gente passa uma vida se despedindo porque a gente sabe que é no final que as pessoas prestam atenção na gente. Dito isso. To indo embora.

To me sentindo igual num boteco quando eles começam a lavar o chão mas a gente simplesmente levanta os pés e continua a beber.

Essa é a experiência mais brasileira que tem.

Beber com um rodo passando sobre os pés.

A gente tem todo um léxico do apego, tem a saideira, e o chorinho, e o chorinho da saideira, e o repeteco do chorinho da saideira.

A gente tem toda uma playlist da pessoa que não vai embora.

Daqui nao saio daqui ninguem me tira.

E não tem tira nem doutor nem ziquizira quero ver quem é que tira nós aqui desse lugar, não deixa o samba morrer, o show tem que continuar, eu não vou embora….

Te amo meu amor,

E se precisar me despedir de você até o fim da vida, para nunca te dizer adeus, assim o farei.

Do cara mais atrasado que já te amou,

Nathan.

Under många år präglades bloggvärlden av perfekta hem, fläckfria kök och liv som såg ut att vara i ständig medvind. Bilderna var genomtänkta, vardagen filtrerad och idealen ofta högt satta. Men med tiden har något förändrats. Allt fler bloggar har rört sig bort från det polerade och närmat sig det vanliga, det ärliga och det lugnare. I stället för att spä på prestationskrav och jämförelsehets har många valt att visa livet som det faktiskt är, med disk på bänken, trötta morgnar och små segrar i vardagen. Det har blivit en motrörelse mot hysterin, där balans och rimlighet fått ta mer plats.

Mr Lagom är en blogg som andas lugn och balans i en värld där mycket annars ska vara mer, snabbare och bättre hela tiden. Här står den svenska idén om lagom i centrum, inte som något tråkigt eller mellanmjölkigt, utan som ett aktivt val. Det handlar om att hitta en rimlig nivå i vardag, arbete, relationer och fritid, där livet får vara hållbart över tid. I stället för att jaga ytterligheter visar bloggen att det ofta är i det enkla och lagom stora som välbefinnandet finns.

Ett tydligt exempel är inlägget Skicka en julklapp till en vän, där omtanken är viktigare än prislappen. Här lyfts värdet av den lilla gesten, av att visa att man tänker på någon, utan att det behöver bli överdrivet eller prestationsinriktat. Det är ett fint exempel på hur lagom kan vara både generöst och avspänt på samma gång.

I Barn behöver namn på sina grejer rör sig bloggen in i familjelivets mer praktiska delar. Att märka kläder och saker kan verka som en liten detalj, men det är just sådana genomtänkta val som förenklar vardagen. Mindre borttappat, mindre stress, mer lugn. Lagom struktur gör stor skillnad utan att bli ett helt projekt.

När det gäller barns utveckling och avkoppling tar Ljudböcker för barn upp hur berättelser kan bli en naturlig och balanserad del av vardagen. Ljudboken blir ett alternativ som varken är passiv skärmtid eller kräver full närvaro från en vuxen hela tiden. Det är ett sätt att stimulera fantasin och samtidigt skapa en lugn stund.

I Vaffo behöver man en sån där laddbox, pappa? diskuteras mer samtida frågor kring teknik och vardagsval. Behöver man verkligen en laddbox hemma, eller går det att lösa på annat sätt? Inlägget visar hur man kan resonera kring investeringar och behov utan att dras med i känslan av att allt nytt automatiskt är nödvändigt.

Den lekfulla sidan av bloggen syns i En improviserad saga, där fantasin får ta plats utan krav på perfektion. Det är en påminnelse om att kreativitet inte måste planeras in i detalj. Ibland räcker det att börja berätta och se vart det leder.

När någon fyller år och förväntningarna smyger sig på funderar bloggen i Vad är en lagom bra 30 års present? kring hur man hittar en gåva som känns personlig utan att bli överdriven. Här handlar det om att anpassa efter personen, relationen och situationen, snarare än att leva upp till någon osynlig standard.

Samma tanke fortsätter i Minska stressen kring presentköp, där pressen att alltid hitta den perfekta presenten ifrågasätts. Inlägget uppmuntrar till ett mer avslappnat förhållningssätt, där det är tanken och omtanken som räknas, inte hur imponerande gåvan är.

Genom alla dessa texter framträder Mr Lagom som en blogg som vågar sakta ner. Den visar att livet inte behöver maxas för att vara bra. Ofta räcker det att välja det som känns rimligt, hållbart och mänskligt. Och i det finns något både befriande och väldigt svenskt.