God Running The Verbs of Salvation
by Donavon L Riley
Today, as the world seems too weak to carry the weight of the Truth, we must resist the urge to soften what lies beyond this life. For those who accuse the Living God of “cruelty”—whether in their defiance or their refined doubt—there is a reply that draws from something they themselves cherish: the dignity and depth of the human soul.
The God who created us does not dismiss us with a simple pat on the head; He calls us to a pilgrimage that takes us through fire into purpose, a place in His unfolding drama that does not shrink from challenge but rises to meet it. He knows what we are made of because He made us, and He holds no illusions about the strength He intends for us to grow into.
God doesn’t call us to a shallow heaven, some easy rest where we might drift in a fog of our own comfort. He calls us to a heaven of fierce glory, a place worthy of those He claims as His own. He invites us into something only He can offer, hope refined by love—a love that both terrifies and heals. And when we, whom He has deemed worthy, should turn away, then perhaps even the flames of Hell are a more fitting end than the slow fade into nothingness that so many of us seem to seek. Hell, after all, is a reminder of a great truth: that we were made for purpose and that we are, even in our failures, creatures bound to something grander, translated into a narrative we do not control.
God’s love does not simmer softly; it is a consuming fire, a relentless force that reshapes us. This is no mere affection, no quiet lullaby of approval. It is an act—a force that lifts or scorches, that heals or convicts. Heaven is a summit for which we are destined, a place for those who are undone by God and made whole again. And for those who refuse, Hell stands as a fitting reminder of what it means to reject the One who made us. In both destinations, there is dignity, whether humanly demanded or divinely gifted; in both, there is the mark of a Creator who does not abandon His creation to triviality.
In a world that trips toward shallow, numbing pursuits, God’s way is the path that dares to redeem the depth of our souls, not with ease but with grace. He lifts, He refines, He convicts—and whether we stand in glory or trial, whether we bend or break, it is always God running the verbs of salvation. He moves us toward Him with both love and rigor, not for us to dissolve into comfort, but for us to become what He meant us to be, whole and complete in His image.