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Where Will You Be in 1000 Years?

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Wednesday 18 February 2026 at 10:21

 

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“You cannot claim to be truthful until you have had the chance to lie.
You cannot claim to be faithful until breaking your word would benefit you.
You cannot claim to love your neighbour until loving him costs you something.”

Where Will You Be in 1000 Years?

 

I have often felt that I was born in the wrong place.

I don’t mean the small industrial town where I first opened my eyes. That was only a backdrop — brick, smoke, cold mornings, familiar streets. What I mean is something harder to explain. I have often felt out of step with the spirit of the age.

There is a way of living today that feels empty to me. People are quick to speak, slow to listen, ready to take advantage if it can be done without consequence. I see it in the news, in families, in business, sometimes, in politics even in some religions. And though I am far from innocent myself, something in me resists it. I feel as though I was meant for a different moral climate as many do.

Psalm 15 has always felt like a description of that climate. Go on, read it with me. You will find it her,

Psalm 15 VOICE - Psalm 15 - A song of David. A recurring - Bible Gateway

It asks a simple question: who is fit to dwell in that place God, the Eternal one, has prepared for faithful members of the human family? And the answer is not dramatic. It speaks of a person who walks uprightly. When it says, “He who walks uprightly,” it is speaking about a way of life, not a single action. To “walk” in Scripture means one’s daily conduct—the steady direction of life. To walk uprightly means to live with integrity, moral wholeness, and consistency before God. It suggests a person whose choices, habits, and relationships are shaped by righteousness, not convenience—someone whose life is straight, not crooked, and whose character remains steady whether seen or unseen. who speaks the truth from the heart.

To “speak the truth from the heart” means more than simply avoiding lies; it describes a person whose inner life and outward words agree. Truth is not spoken as a performance or convenience, but flows naturally from a sincere, upright heart before God. It is honesty rooted in integrity—where what one believes, intends, and says are aligned without deception or hidden motive. who keeps his word even when it costs him. A person who does not use others for gain.

When the Psalm says the righteous person “does not slander with his tongue” (or “does not speak evil against others”), it refers to someone who refuses to harm another’s name or reputation through careless, exaggerated, or malicious words. It is restraint rooted in love—choosing not to pass along gossip, distort facts, or speak with the intent to wound. This kind of person understands the weight of speech and guards it, knowing that words can either tear down or protect. It reflects a heart that values justice, mercy, and the dignity of others.

It is a picture of steady, ordinary goodness.

If there is to be a new earth — and I believe there will be — it cannot be filled with the same spirit we see now. A world made right would require people who have learned to live rightly. People who love their neighbour. People who can be trusted when no one is watching.

But that raises a hard question.

If those are the kinds of people who inherit that future world, why must they live so long in this present one? Why sixty or seventy years here first?

I have come to think of this life as a kind of garden where we are sent to move freely while God watches — not harshly, but patiently. In this garden we make thousands of small choices. Most of them seem ordinary. But slowly, those choices shape us.

You cannot claim to be truthful until you have had the chance to lie.
You cannot claim to be faithful until breaking your word would benefit you.
You cannot claim to love your neighbour until loving him costs you something.

Time reveals us. It also forms us.

Perhaps that is why we are here so long. Not because God delights in difficulty, but because character takes time. You see, if I was to say I am stronger than you could arm wrestle and settle the matter.  But what if I said I am more honest than you? It would take both our lifetimes to settle. Moral issues take time. Psalm 15 people are not born fully grown. They are shaped through years of quiet decisions — often unnoticed, often unrewarded.

When I feel out of place in this world, I am tempted to think I have been born in the wrong era. But maybe that feeling itself is part of the shaping. Maybe this world is not home — but it is preparation.

The new earth, if it comes, will not simply be given to whoever happens to be there. It will belong to those who have learned how to live in it — those who have practiced truth, mercy, and steadfast love in a harder land.

I do not pretend to be such a person yet. I am still learning. Still failing. Still choosing.

But perhaps these years are not wasted.

Perhaps they are the proving ground for the kind of people who can live forever in peace.

 

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.

Matthew 6:10

KJV

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Jim McCrory

My Search for Genuine Human Connections

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Sunday 23 February 2025 at 10:24


"He who walks with integrity

and practices righteousness,

who speaks the truth from his heart,

who has no slander on his tongue,

who does no harm to his neighbor,

who casts no scorn on his friend."



Some time ago, two girls were shopping in London. They saw Indian curries in a deli that would make one drool like Pavlov’s dog. So, they ordered a portion. When the assistant weighed them, they were shocked at the cost and ran out the shop when the assistant went to pack them.

Friendship is a bit like that, some friends find there way to us, but want what they can get from us, but then run when they get what they want. They are not prepared to face the cost. Do you find life like that?

As I grow older, I find myself increasingly disappointed in people. It’s not just about unmet expectations or personal setbacks—it’s something deeper, something fundamental about human relationships. The German word Torschlusspanik—the fear that life’s doors are closing—has begun to resonate with me. But my concern isn’t about missed milestones or unfulfilled ambitions. What I long for is something far simpler, yet paradoxically elusive: genuine human connection.

I don’t mean superficial friendships or transactional relationships where people linger only as long as there’s something to gain. I mean the kind of bond that exists purely for its own sake—where kindness, understanding, and companionship are given freely, without hidden motives. But the more I look, the rarer it seems to be.

Over the years, I’ve met people who, at first, appeared sincere—until their true intentions surfaced. Some were religious, eager to befriend me, only for it to become clear that their kindness was conditional, a means to an end. Others prided themselves on being open-minded, yet their tolerance quickly crumbled when confronted with ideas they didn’t like. 

Then there are the ones who judge, convinced of their own infallibility, those who wield a little knowledge like a weapon, blind to their own limitations in a kind of Dunning— Kruger effect.

It’s disheartening, this realization that self-interest often overshadows genuine connection. But I refuse to let cynicism win. If anything, Torschlusspanik has had an unexpected effect—it has made me more determined to seek out the rare individuals who embody selflessness. These are the people who extend kindness without expectation, who listen without judgment, who show up simply because they care. They are the breaths of fresh air in an increasingly transactional world, proving that not everyone is keeping a tally.

This journey hasn’t been easy, but it has been enlightening. It has forced me to ask myself difficult questions: Am I the kind of person I hope to find? Do I extend the same grace and sincerity that I seek in others? Am I willing to be open, honest, and kind, even if it isn’t always reciprocated?

The fear of doors closing—the nagging sense that time is slipping away—has, in a way, become a gift. It has pushed me to focus not on how many people I know, but on the depth of the connections I cultivate. It has reminded me that while true, altruistic relationships are rare, they are not impossible to find. And perhaps, just perhaps, as some doors shut, others are quietly opening—leading to the kind of meaningful human connections I’ve been searching for all along.



 

 

Some thoughts on friendship

O LORD, who may abide in Your tent?
Who may dwell on Your holy mountain?
He who walks with integrity
and practices righteousness,
who speaks the truth from his heart,
who has no slander on his tongue,
who does no harm to his neighbor,
who casts no scorn on his friend,
who despises the vile
but honors those who fear the LORD,
who does not revise a costly oath,
who lends his money without interest
and refuses a bribe against the innocent.
He who does these things
will never be shaken.

Psalm 15, (BSB).



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Jim McCrory

A Letter To Those Who Walk Without Empathy

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Edited by Jim McCrory, Wednesday 27 August 2025 at 16:00

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Dear Fellow human,

I don’t write with anger or judgment, I don't even like using the word "sociopath" — it seems so confrontational and judgemental. How about,  A Letter To Those Who Walk Without Empathy? That sounds better.

I pen this letter with a heartfelt plea for reflection and hope. You may not think of yourself as someone who hurts others. Maybe you justify your actions, rationalizing that people deserve what happens to them or that life is simply a game to be played and won. But deep down, there’s a truth you can’t outrun: the choices we make, especially the way we treat others, shape the person we become.

You may have mastered the art of charm, weaving a web of deception so seamlessly that it feels second nature. Perhaps you’ve lied to gain someone’s trust, taken shortcuts without a second thought, or avoided responsibility by blaming others. You might act impulsively, driven by whims, or find it hard to control the anger that flares when life doesn’t go your way. And when relationships falter, maybe you’ve told yourself it’s their fault, not yours. Ultimately, you will never find happiness in this way. Perhaps, loneliness.

But here’s the thing: you don’t have to stay on this path. The capacity to choose differently, to rewrite the narrative of your life, is always within reach.

Psalm 15 offers a vision of what it means to live a life of integrity and depth—a life where others find safety, trust, and love in your presence. It says:

"Lord, who may dwell in your sacred tent?

Who may live on your holy mountain?

The one whose walk is blameless,

who does what is righteous,

who speaks the truth from their heart;

whose tongue utters no slander,

who does no wrong to a neighbor,

and casts no slur on others;

who despises a vile person

but honors those who fear the Lord;

who keeps an oath even when it hurts,

and does not change their mind;

who lends money to the poor without interest;

who does not accept a bribe against the innocent.

Whoever does these things

will never be shaken.

(NIV)

This passage isn’t just a lofty ideal; it’s an invitation. Imagine being someone others can trust completely, who speaks the truth even when it’s hard, who lifts others up instead of tearing them down. Imagine being someone who keeps their promises, lives with honesty, and treats others with kindness—not because it’s easy, but because it’s right.

What would it take for you to start walking this path?

Yes, it requires courage. It means acknowledging the harm you’ve caused, taking responsibility, and making amends where you can. It means letting go of excuses and facing the uncomfortable truth about yourself. But it also means freedom—freedom from the lies, the manipulation, and the emptiness that often accompany a life of deceit.

You were created for more than this. You were designed to connect deeply, to love sincerely, and to bring good into the world. It’s not too late to change. Seeking help is not a weakness but a sign of strength. Reaching out for guidance, admitting your struggles, and striving for a life of integrity can transform not just your relationships, but your entire sense of purpose. The very fact that you are reading this may be that God is prompting you to attain something better.

If this message feels like a confrontation, I hope you’ll see it instead as an act of care. Change isn’t easy, but the rewards are profound: peace of mind, genuine relationships, and a life that reflects the beauty of Psalm 15.

The path to becoming a person of integrity is open to you. The question is, will you take it?

With hope for your future,

A Fellow Human.

If you need support, Join us at Unshackled Faith Bible Study and Discussion Group - DownToMeet

 

Bible verses from the NIV,

THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

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