Edited by Jim McCrory, Wednesday 18 February 2026 at 10:21
“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,
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.
Where Will You Be in 1000 Years?
“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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