The world feels like it’s spinning on a lie. Scroll through your feed, and it’s there: headlines that twist, promises that bend, half-truths dressed up as wisdom. Governments spin narratives to hold power. Corporations market dreams that don’t deliver. Even our own hearts edit the truth sometimes—smoothing over flaws to look a little better, a little safer. Since the pandemic, the cracks have only grown wider. Trust in institutions—media, science, even churches—has frayed like an old rope. A 2023 survey showed global trust in governments and media at historic lows, with only 43% of people trusting news sources. It’s as if the air itself is thick with distortion, and we’re all breathing it.
But this isn’t just a cultural drift. It’s spiritual. The Bible warned of a “spirit of lawlessness” creeping into the world’s bones, a rebellion against truth that grows louder as history nears its climax. The prophet Daniel saw it: a world stumbling under deceit until a rock “cut without hands” shatters the false and ushers in a kingdom where righteousness holds the reins. That ache you feel—for a world where truth doesn’t bend—isn’t just nostalgia. It’s a sign you were made for something better.
The Shadow of Lawlessness
Look around, and you can feel it. Post-COVID, the world didn’t just recover; it shifted. The Church, once a public pillar, seems quieter now. Megachurches face scandals. Denominations split over doctrine. Attendance in many Western congregations has dipped—some reports say by 20% or more since 2020. It’s tempting to call this decline, to mourn the loss of influence. But what if it’s not failure? What if it’s strategy?
Scripture speaks of a “restrainer” holding back the full flood of lawlessness. For centuries, the Church has been that pillar of truth—building hospitals, shaping laws, carrying the gospel to the ends of the earth. But now, as the Spirit of God slowly withdraws her from the spotlight, the world feels the absence. Lawlessness doesn’t just creep; it surges. You see it in the normalization of deceit—politicians lying without shame, algorithms amplifying outrage over reason, and a culture that treats truth like an opinion. As the prophet Isaiah warned, “Gross darkness shall cover the earth.”
Yet this isn’t the whole story. The Church’s retreat isn’t defeat; it’s preparation. While the world grows loud with lies, the Spirit of Christ is refining a remnant. The visible victories—big crusades, political clout—are giving way to something deeper: a hidden war waged in prayer, a furnace of trials forging a bride “without spot or wrinkle.”
The Ache for What’s Coming
I felt it myself not long ago, scrolling through social media posts about yet another scandal, another betrayal of trust. The noise was deafening, but in the quiet afterward, a thought broke through: “This isn’t the end. It’s the prelude.” Every lie that thrives now is a sign that truth is gathering strength. The Spirit of Christ, alive since the cross, hasn’t abandoned us. He’s working, purifying, preparing.
Daniel’s rock—the kingdom of God—doesn’t arrive with fanfare or negotiation. It comes with glory, sudden and unstoppable, when the Prince of Peace sets foot on this planet again. That day, the silence will feel clean. No spin, no distortion, just righteousness reigning without pride or deceit. Until then, the darkness will ripen. The spirit of lawlessness will unleash its full might, a judgment on a world that chose rebellion over reverence. But light ripens too. You catch it in small, stubborn moments: a scientist who risks her career for honesty, an artist who creates without agenda, a neighbor who chooses forgiveness over hate.
Living as Citizens of the Coming Kingdom
The question isn’t just what’s coming—it’s what we do now. The Church may be fading from the world’s stage, but her heart beats in hidden places. She’s become a “house of prayer,” waging war invisibly, her saints purified through solitude and trial. This season hurts because it’s meant to. God is shaping a people who reflect His truth in a world that’s forgotten it.
So what does faithfulness look like in this overlap of light and shadow? It’s choosing integrity when it costs you. It’s praying when the world screams for your attention. It’s living as an early citizen of the kingdom that’s coming—showing the world what righteousness looks like, even in small ways. Share truth kindly but firmly. Love without strings. Stand steady when the ground shakes.
The ache for a world where truth reigns isn’t a fantasy; it’s a promise. The rock is coming. Until it falls, keep your eyes open. Truth still whispers back, and those who hear it are already part of the victory.
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