Silent Truths

Who Thought of You

“As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.” — Proverbs 23:7

There is one great root, one primordial spark, from which every human action arises: what others think of us. Whether we imagine the gaze of men or the scrutiny of God, our reactions are shaped on this foundation.

A child is born with a voice of inner wisdom—pure, unclouded, uncorrupted—but soon that voice is hushed by parents, teachers, and the chorus of society.

The silence is profound, for once lost, the authentic voice of self must claw its way back through layers of doubt and mimicry. Decades later, if it resurfaces at all, it speaks timidly:

“It does not matter what others think.”

And yet this voice competes against a world that has taught us for so long that acceptance is survival.

The Rebellion of the Ego

“Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” — Proverbs 16:18

We shout rebelliously, “I don’t care what others think of me!” Yet often such declarations are but masks of pride, said not from freedom, but from the bruises of conformity.

The irony is sharp: in loudly insisting we are free from judgment, we show how deeply judgment has formed us. The world molded us without our consent, and in rejecting it, we are still dancing to its music.

This struggle becomes a paradox. Some say pride doesn’t matter, that only God’s opinion does. They retreat into worship, lifting their eyes to heaven, yet even there the question lurks: Are we bowing out of love, or still out of fear of disapproval?

The Theater of Appearance

“Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.” — 1 Samuel 16:7

The struggle is visible in our bodies and appearances. Women, more often, adorn themselves with makeup, fine garments, and elegance, presenting a polished mask to the world. Men, though less given to beautification, declare their pride with loud allegiances—team colors, political banners, career titles, and trophies that say, “This is who I am!”

We all crave acknowledgment. Whether through silk or steel, fragrance or fervor, humanity is forever staging a theater of self-presentation.

The Monastic Whisper

“Better is a handful with quietness, than both hands full with travail and vexation of spirit.” — Ecclesiastes 4:6

Abstinence? Meditation? Self-denial?

To abandon worldly goods and shed the self seems radical. A hermit in the desert, a monk in a stone cell, a prophet clothed in camel’s hair—these are archetypes of self-emptied lives. Society calls them strange because they are rare.

But ponder this:

• What if self-denial were the norm, not the anomaly?
• What if we had been raised to place the Creator’s creation above the mirror of our own egos?
• Would wars still burn?
• Would famines still stalk the earth?
• Or would the voice of wisdom, long silenced, sing in harmony across nations?

The Eternal Question

The soul is a battlefield, where pride and humility wage endless war. One path exalts self-image; the other seeks the face of God. Neither man nor woman escapes this struggle.

Perhaps the highest wisdom is to admit the tension and live within it—to hear the quiet call of Silent Truths rising like a psalm through the centuries of noise.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

The world clamors for recognition, yet the whisper remains eternal.