There’s a scene in Scripture that should shake us all to the core. A rich man comes running to Jesus. He’s done everything right by the law. He hasn’t stolen. He hasn’t lied. He’s honored his parents. He’s followed the rules. And he’s asking the right question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

But when Jesus answers, it doesn’t go the way the rich man expected.

“Sell all you have. Give it to the poor. Then come, follow me.”

And just like that, the man walks away grieved.

Not because Jesus condemned him. Not because he didn’t get an answer. But because the answer required a real surrender—a laying down of self, of stuff, of status. And he couldn’t do it. The one thing that could have changed his life forever stood in front of him, offered him peace and purpose, and he walked away.

This is humanity’s story, isn’t it?

We think God is trying to take something from us. Like following Jesus means losing the good life. Like obedience means missing out. But the truth? God isn’t trying to strip us of joy. He’s trying to give us real joy. Not the fake stuff that comes from possessions, likes on social media, or temporary highs. But the kind that comes from freedom. Wholeness. Purpose.

The rich man couldn’t see that. He saw the cost, not the reward.

And we’re not so different.

Jesus still says, “Follow me.”

He still calls us to lay things down. But instead of running toward that call like the Ethiopian who said, “Here is water, what prevents me from being baptized?” we hesitate. We rationalize. We walk away, grieved.

Why? Because our hands are too full of things we think we need.

We live in a time where comfort is king. Where truth is personalized. Where no one wants to be challenged, and conviction is treated like an insult. We are drowning in distraction, addicted to convenience, and terrified of sacrifice.

We crave healing, but reject the Healer. We want peace, but avoid the Prince of Peace. We beg for purpose, but won’t lay down our own plans to walk in God’s.

I once spoke to a woman who was desperate for clarity. “What must I do to find peace in my mind?” she asked. I gave her a clear, practical answer rooted in biblical wisdom. And she recoiled. “Oh, no. I can’t do that.”

Just like that.

The same pattern. The same heartbreak. People asking for change but unwilling to change. Asking for truth, but only wanting it if it fits neatly into their current lifestyle.

We’re not just distracted. We’re deceived. And our hearts are hardened.

We like the miracle-working Jesus. The one who fed the 5,000. The one who healed the blind and raised the dead. We build entire movements around his miracles.

But what about the Jesus who withdrew from the crowd when they wanted to make him king by force? What about the Jesus who said, “Eat my flesh and drink my blood,” and watched the crowds walk away in confusion and offense?

He wasn’t chasing applause. He came to speak truth. And truth, by its very nature, divides.

People are trading eternal life for temporary pleasure. Trading the presence of God for popularity, platform, or profit. They settle for the appearance of success while their souls rot from within.

And worse—they don’t even know it.

Like the rich man, they walk away grieved, but convinced they’re still doing okay. Still checking the boxes. Still moral. Still decent. But dead inside.

Jesus isn’t just a safety net. He’s the only way.

Some people will read this and scoff.

Some will feel offended.

But I’m not writing to win approval. I’m writing because I care. Because I know what it’s like to chase every worldly thing only to feel empty. I know what it’s like to hear the truth and not want to obey it.

But I also know the other side.

When you finally say yes to Jesus—really say yes—everything changes. You stop pretending. You stop chasing shadows. You step into light, and the darkness can’t touch you anymore.

And it’s not about perfection. It’s about surrender. It’s about trading your will for His. It’s about recognizing that He’s not trying to restrict you; He’s trying to rescue you.

This generation needs a wake-up call. We need less hype and more holiness. Less self-help and more self-denial. Less talk about blessings and more about obedience.

What would happen if we stopped clutching our “stuff” and started living with open hands?

What would happen if we stopped negotiating with God and just followed Him?

What if we became like the Ethiopian man and said, “What’s stopping me?”

Because the truth is, we are.

We’re the ones stopping ourselves.

Jesus hasn’t changed. His call is still the same: “Come, follow me.”

Will we walk away grieved?

Or will we drop everything and go?

Because freedom is standing right in front of us.

If only we have the faith to see it.

If only we have the courage to say yes.

Not later.

Now.

Let’s reclaim what is rightfully our’s in this digital noise we live in. Join us in this exploration of how deep the rabbit hole actually goes. 

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