Your Own Fountain

Drink water from your own cistern, running water from your own well. May your fountain be blessed, and may you rejoice in the wife of your youth. A loving doe, a graceful deer—may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be intoxicated with her love. Proverbs 5:15, 18-19

The silence at Vagner and Sabrina’s dinner table was louder than any argument. Between them was a chasm of routine and exhaustion. Their conversations, once full of dreams and laughter, were now reduced to reports on the execution of daily tasks.

Vagner, an overworked engineer, found refuge in overtime at the office. Sabrina, who had paused her design career to care for their children, found solace in the chats of her online mothers’ groups. Both were thirsty, but they were seeking water from distant springs. Their own fountains, once clear and bubbling, were becoming muddied by neglect.

The silent crisis reached its peak on a Friday night. Vagner came home late, once again, and found Sabrina asleep on the sofa, her phone fallen beside her. He looked at her. He saw the lines of fatigue on her face; the same woman he had fallen in love with in college had lost her glow under the weight of daily life. And he felt a pang of guilt. He was not being fair.

The next day, he canceled his appointments and did something he had not done in years. He invited Sabrina out for coffee, just the two of them.

“I feel like we are becoming business partners, not a couple,” he confessed, the vulnerability in his voice surprising them both. “I’m tired, Sabrina. But mostly, I am thirsty. Thirsty for what we used to have.”

Sabrina looked at him, and the barriers she had built around her heart began to crumble.

“Me too, Vagner. Me too.”

That day, they made a decision. They decided to “drink water from their own cistern.”

They started with small gestures. Vagner began to leave work on time, rejecting the culture of excess that kept him away from home. The first night he arrived for dinner was awkward, almost formal. But then, he started asking about her day—not about her tasks, but about her feelings.

Sabrina, in turn, made an effort to see Vagner not just as the provider, but as the man she loved. She sent him a text in the middle of the day, not with a shopping list, but with an old photo of them from when they first started dating, with the caption: “Remembered us.”

They declared a “screen-free zone” after nine o’clock at night. Instead of getting lost in their own digital worlds, they would sit on the veranda. At first, the silence was uncomfortable. But then, they began to talk. About fears, dreams, about the funny things the kids did. The spring that had seemed dry began to flow again.

The turning point was subtle. One evening, Vagner was frustrated with a problem at work. His first instinct was to isolate himself, to stew in his anger. Instead, he shared it with Sabrina. She did not give him a technical solution, but she listened to him with an empathy that soothed his soul. Her embrace was a source of comfort that satisfied him always. He felt captivated not just by her body, but by the refuge she represented.

Their love was no longer the frantic love of youth, but something deeper, more resilient. It was a love watered by the daily choice to turn toward each other.

A few months later, a recently divorced colleague vented to Vagner.

“The passion was gone, man. It became routine. I went looking outside for what I no longer had at home.”

Vagner looked at his friend with a compassion born of experience. He thought about how close he had been to that same chasm.

“The problem,” Vagner said, with a wisdom he did not know he possessed, “is that we spend our lives looking for new, exotic springs. And we do not realize that the purest fountain, the one that truly quenches thirst, is the one already in our own yard. We just need to take care of it.”

That night, when he got home, he found Sabrina dancing in the kitchen with the children. She smiled at him over their shoulders, and in that smile, he saw the same woman of his youth. And he felt like the richest man in the world, forever captivated by the love he had almost let dry up.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Preoccupations

Preoccupation is something natural for human beings,

Everyone preoccupies with what will happen.

Everyone desires to know how the future will be,

Everyone wants to be ready for tomorrow.

 

This search for preparation can generate anxiety,

The mind is filled with an infinity of imagination.

One creates inside themselves all types of scenarios,

Each person imagines everything that can take place.

 

These imaginations turn into a kind of fear,

They root in the heart and produce anguish.

The person is concerned all the time; there is no rest.

They get restless and without knowing what to do.

 

And for most of the time, the preoccupation is useless,

Because these are things that nobody can predict.

One experiences anticipated and meaningless suffering,

The suffering is based only on expectancy.

 

It is needed help to be freed from anxiety,

The person must look high and ask for help.

They must remember that one who controls all,

They must remember there is an Almighty God.

 

 

This God is able to relieve this heavy anguish,

He will take off preoccupation, fear, and anxiety.

The person will live in peace with himself again,

They will smile again and have faith in a better future.

 

The Lord brings an inexplicable and endurance peace,

Even if destiny shows itself totally uncertain.

God calms the heart giving it confidence,

Giving it great hope amid the chaos.

 

Whenever the person thinks to get desperate,

They will remember there is no reason for this.

The person will deliver their anxieties to the Lord,

And they will rest waiting for His marvelous action.

This poem is part of the book Words of Faith.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/meLvPr

Couple That Helps Each Other

The couple must always help themselves,

One another must support themselves.

Together, in God’s faith, they will fortify,

Then, they will face all the challenges in their lives.

 

When someone is in deep sadness,

The other needs to treat him with kindness.

And doing things to the other to improve his mood,

For the other to get strong and good.

 

The man who is feeling weak,

He needs his wife to console him.

She will help with many things,

They will overcome everything.

 

The woman who is in affliction time,

She needs the man of his life.

They will pass through everything that happens,

They will win because God is with them.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume IV.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/bpMr16

The Taste of Wormwood

My son, pay attention to my wisdom, turn your ear to my words of insight, that you may maintain discretion and your lips may preserve knowledge. For the lips of the adulterous woman drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil; but in the end she is bitter as gall, sharp as a double-edged sword … You will say, “How I hated discipline! How my heart spurned correction! I would not obey my teachers or turn my ear to my instructors. And I was soon in serious trouble in the assembly of God’s people.” 5:1-4, 12-14

My name is Fernando, and this is the autopsy of a life. I groan now, at the end, not from physical pain, but from something deeper. It is the sound of a soul consumed from within. My flesh and my body are spent, not by a disease, but by a choice. A choice that began with the taste of honey and ended with the bitter taste of wormwood.

It all started at a happy hour, six months ago. Life had grown lukewarm. My marriage to Paula, good and stable, had become predictable. My job, secure, but without passion. And then, Rebeca appeared, the new analyst on my team. She laughed at all my jokes. Her lips, as the book I used to read says, dripped honey.

“You’re so underrated here, Fernando,” she told me that night, her voice smoother than oil. “They don’t see your brilliance.”

Her words were a balm to my dormant ego. Paula loved me, I knew, but she knew my flaws, my insecurities. Rebeca saw only the brilliance she herself had invented.

The flirting became a secret lunch. The lunch became a late afternoon coffee. Each step seemed small, harmless. I told myself it was just friendship, that I was in control. I ignored the wisdom my father had taught me, the instruction that echoed from a distant past. I turned away from understanding.

Her path was unstable, and I did not know it. She lived in a world of intense emotions and instant gratification. And I, a fool, dived in headfirst. The first time I was physically unfaithful, I felt a wave of guilt, but also a wave of power. I had crossed a line and nothing terrible had happened.

But her end, as the proverb says, is as bitter as wormwood. The initial sweetness began to turn sour. The flirting became demands. The admiration became jealousy. The excitement became anxiety. I lived with my phone on silent mode, my heart racing with every notification. My feet were going down to death—the death of my peace, of my integrity. Every step of mine took hold of the grave of deceit.

The sharp, double-edged sword cut in every direction. It cut my relationship with Paula. She began to sense my distance.

“You’re distant, Nando. What happened?” she would ask, and every question was torture. It cut my finances, with the expensive gifts and secret dinners to keep Rebeca satisfied. It cut my performance at work, my mind always divided, exhausted.

And, in the end, the sword turned against me. Paula found out. Not with a dramatic scene from a soap opera, but with a silent sadness that was a thousand times worse. She found the messages. The castle of lies I had built collapsed on top of me.

Now, I am here, in this rented apartment that smells of loneliness. The divorce took half of my assets. The promotion I had coveted went to someone else, as my “brilliance” had faded. Rebeca? She blamed me for the disaster and disappeared, probably in search of another “brilliant man” to charm.

I hate discipline, and my soul despises reproof. I ask myself, “How did I get to this point?” And the answer is simple and terrible. I arrived here because, for a moment of sweetness, I sold all my honor.

And the taste that remains in the mouth, in the end, is not that of honey. It is the bitter taste of regret. The taste of wormwood.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

The Internet

The Internet is a powerful tool,

There are many things you can do.

It can be used to spread adultery,

But it can be used for Gospel preaching.

 

Something about God, someone can share,

People will see and this will bring them happiness.

The word of God will spread worldwide,

We will take Jesus’ name for distant places and lives.

 

With social media, the world can be reached,

Through social media, the Gospel will be announced.

There will be made big chains of praise,

Too many people will know the Lord’s name.

 

They will know who was Jesus Christ,

They will know about the cross and his big sacrifice.

Many people will access his verity,

With Jesus, many people will go to liberty.

 

Through the big web, together, we are going to evangelize,

They will adore the name of the God Most High.

In the entire world, too many achievements will happen,

Many people will believe in Christ’s name.

Salvation will be available for each of them.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume IV.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/bpMr16

The Fall of Human Beings and Their Salvation

The first man was created according to divine perfection,

God made him pure and clean to dwell in his habitation.

Then, God saw that the man was in great solitude,

God made the perfect companion to warm his heart.

They were always in the presence of the Lord,

For all their needs, God was the provider.

There was nothing more they could want or desire,

The greatness of God was complete in their lives.

The most cunning of animals, the serpent, spoke to the woman,

He spoke pleasant words, and she had faith in them.

The woman ate the fruit and gave it to the man,

Both went to hide when they realized they were naked.

This sin made humankind corrupt and impure,

From that moment on, everyone would be filthy, for sure.

All humans were far from the Lord,

The sin of humankind separates them from the Creator.

A great sacrifice was needed for reconciliation,

God punished sin in his only Son.

Jesus took upon himself the sins of all humanity,

This gesture of love gave everyone a new opportunity.

Sinners were justified by the sacrifice of Jesus,

All sins were cleansed because of the blood on the cross.

By the grace of God, humans were freed from condemnation,

Through the great love of the Father, they have eternal salvation.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume VI.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/4EBjBl

The Fountains of Life

My son, pay attention to what I say; turn your ear to my words … Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it … Keep your mouth free of perversity … Let your eyes look straight ahead … Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways. Do not turn to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil. Proverbs 4:20, 23-27

Isabela collapsed in the company parking lot. Her car keys fell from her trembling hand, and she stood there, leaning against the door, her chest heaving, unable to take another step. It was not a heart attack. It was something worse. It was absolute emptiness. At thirty-five, as a marketing director at a multinational corporation, she had achieved everything she dreamed of. And she felt dead inside. The official diagnosis was Burnout Syndrome.

The doctor gave her three months’ leave and a piece of advice: “You need to reconnect with what really matters.”

The first few weeks were a blur of sleep and apathy. Her world, previously governed by goals, deadlines, and meetings, was now a deafening silence. That was when she found an old diary of her grandmother’s. On the first page, written in elegant handwriting, was the passage from Proverbs 4: “Above all else, guard your heart…”

Those words, which she had heard in childhood, sounded different. They were a more accurate diagnosis than the doctor’s. She realized that her exhaustion was not just professional; it was spiritual. Her fountains of life had dried up. And, with the help of a Christian therapist, she began the journey of identifying the leaks.

The therapist asked her to list what she “consumed” daily. Isabela realized that her heart was a funnel open to the anxiety of the market, the envy of others’ achievements on LinkedIn, the bitterness of corporate rivalries, and the constant fear of not being good enough. She did not guard her heart; she allowed it to be a repository of toxic waste. Her first task was a “clean-up”: she stopped following profiles that caused her distress, cut off toxic conversations, and began filling her mornings not with emails, but with prayer and reading.

The therapist’s second question was equally impactful:

“How do you speak about your work and your colleagues?”

Isabela realized that her language was dominated by sarcasm, complaining, and gossip. She united people around criticism, not encouragement. As part of her healing, she set herself a challenge: to go an entire week without complaining about anything or anyone. It was excruciating at first, but gradually, she felt her internal environment calm down.

Her therapist noticed that she lived by dwelling on past mistakes: “I should have done that project differently,” or paralyzed by future anxiety: “What if I don’t hit the target next quarter?” Her spiritual eyes were crossed, never focused on the present. The task was to practice daily gratitude, forcing her eyes to see what was in front of her today: her son’s smile, the warmth of the sun, a tasty meal.

The final step was to re-evaluate her daily choices. She realized that her “feet” were taking her down paths that drained her energy. The sleepless nights working on projects no one had asked for, the networking lunches with people who exhausted her, the refusal to take vacations for fear of seeming “replaceable.” She began to make deliberate decisions: leaving the office on time, scheduling quality time with her family, saying “no” to commitments that did not align with her new values. She was, literally, ordering her steps.

At the end of the three months, Isabela was a changed woman. She had not found a magic solution, but a new set of disciplines. She returned to work, but not in the same way. She delegated more, trusted more, controlled less. Her team, which once feared her, began to admire her. Her productivity, paradoxically, increased.

One afternoon, a colleague, seeing her leaving on time, commented:

“You look different, Isa. Lighter. What’s the secret?”

Isabela smiled, a genuine smile she had not displayed in years.

“No secret,” she replied. “I just learned to guard the source. The rest is a consequence.”

She got into her car, no longer feeling the weight of the world, but the lightness of a heart that was being well-guarded. The fountains of life, once dry, began to flow again.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Needing Help

There are many people needing help,

People who are going through great struggles.

Internal struggles that make one lose heart,

Conflicts that make one devalue themselves.

They are weak and cannot get up,

The difficulty comes, and they want to give up.

They want to accept everything that comes their way,

Promises to make things better come along each day.

They are weak, and they will accept anything, they sway.

At that moment, they can enter perdition,

At this stage come alcohol, drugs, and prostitution.

They surrender to a life of debauchery,

On this painful path, they will soon perish.

This is the time for the true Christian to come,

A word of life, the Christian will give to the lost one.

They will present a new life with God,

They will show a new world full of possibilities.

They will introduce the lost one to salvation’s opportunity.

The person needs to accept for the change to begin,

They need to throw themselves into Jesus’ loving arms.

With surrender to the Lord, their life will be transformed,

Where there was only sadness, joy will reign.

After the change, a new season of life will begin.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume VI.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/4EBjBl

Obedience

Obedience is what the Lord always wants,

You being a true Christian is what He wants.

He wants a heart fair and true,

Obeying the Lord in everything you do.

 

To obey is not a thing that you can play,

It is a thing you always must seek the right way.

The ways of the Lord always command our life,

The will of the Lord, we cannot deny.

 

To obey God is not only tithing,

It is a different life that we must be showing,

Dedicating all your way to the Lord,

Being an example of truth and purity,

Being a different person in the community.

 

It is necessary to be a person that was modified,

Having your mundane life denied.

Your submission, you will show to God,

Always accepting the plan of the Lord,

Showing disposition in the heart.

 

There is no use to pretend obedience,

Like that, you will be living off appearance.

Under a mask, your life is hiding.

Only your false face you are giving.

 

Living with God is living with veracity,

Always showing loyalty.

Showing you are a person who is different,

A person who is zealous and obedient,

And not just another one who claims to be a believer.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume III.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/3nG5R5

The Light and the Shortcut

The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day. But the way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know what makes them stumble. Proverbs 4:18-19

Cleber and Sidnei started law school on the same day, with the same dreams and the same freshman anxiety. They sat side by side in the first class, both from small towns, both determined to make it in the big city. But there, at that starting point, their paths began to diverge, like two rivers that spring from the same mountain but flow to different oceans.

Cleber chose the path of the morning light. His progress was slow, almost imperceptible. He would spend hours in the library, poring over heavy books while others were at parties. He made a point of citing his sources correctly in his papers, even if it cost him more time. He helped classmates who were struggling, sharing his notes, believing that knowledge grew when it was divided. His brilliance was not that of a spotlight, but of the first, pale, stubborn light that announces the dawn. Many considered him too much of a straight arrow, a bit slow.

Sidnei chose the path of instant brilliance. He was darkness disguised as light. He quickly discovered the shortcuts: ready-made papers from the internet, answers shared in secret groups during online exams, the art of flattering the right professors. He did not study; he “hacked” the system. He landed an internship at a large firm not on merit, but through a recommendation secured with a lie. His success was dazzling and swift. He was popular, admired, the model of a “winner.”

Over the five years of the course, the difference became stark. Sidnei always seemed to be ahead, getting the best grades with minimal effort, moving in the most influential circles. Cleber, for his part, kept his steady pace. His grades were good, the fruit of hard work. His reputation was not for brilliance, but for reliability. His light, still soft, began to gain strength and warmth, and the right people started to notice it.

The perfect day for Cleber and the great stumble for Sidnei happened during the Bar Exam, the test that would define their careers.

Cleber prepared with his usual diligence. Months of disciplined study. He arrived for the exam feeling not arrogant, but prepared. His mind was clear, the path ahead of him illuminated by the knowledge he had built, brick by brick.

Sidnei, accustomed to shortcuts, tried his final trick. He acquired an earpiece, a risky scheme to receive the answers. He entered the exam room not with knowledge in his mind, but with fear in his heart. He was walking in darkness, dependent on a fragile piece of technology and invisible accomplices.

In the middle of the exam, the anti-fraud detection system was triggered. Proctors silently approached Sidnei’s desk. Panic froze his veins. He did not know how, or why. He had stumbled in the darkness he himself had created. The humiliation of being removed from the room under the gaze of everyone was the culmination of a five-year journey built on fraud. He did not even know what he had tripped over, for in the darkness, the obstacle is always invisible until the fall.

Months later, Cleber, with his Bar card in hand, began working at a small but respected law firm. His path was just beginning, but the morning light was now strong, clear, and the day ahead of him promised to be perfect in its righteousness.

One day, he received a message from an unknown number. It was Sidnei.

“Congratulations, man. I heard. You deserved it.” The message continued: “I don’t know where I went wrong. It all seemed so easy.”

Cleber looked out the window of his small office. The morning sun bathed the city. He typed his reply, not with pride, but with a deep compassion:

“The mistake, Sidnei, wasn’t in a single step. It was in the path we chose. Yours promised a shortcut in the darkness; mine, a long walk toward the light.”

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Samson

Since his mother’s womb, he was separated,

To be a servant of God, he was anointed.

For everything in his life to be accomplished,

A vow to the Lord was needed.

 

Purified, his mother had to keep,

Neither drink nor impurity, she could not eat.

She could not shave the hair of her son.

The people of Israel would be set free by Samson.

 

Samson was born from a sterile woman,

He grew up as a strong man.

He was as stronger than everyone,

Samson was a liberator for everyone.

 

He challenged all Philistines,

And he won in all fights.

Against him, no one could do anything.

The hand of God was with him.

 

For a Philistine woman, Samson was delighted,

Against his parents, a marriage, he decided.

During the feast, a great enigma, he talked,

A great reward, he promised.

In the whole land, nobody answered.

The bride of Samson was threatened,

She went to Samson to beg for the answer.

He told the secret because he got very anguished.

To his people, the woman said the solution,

And finally, the enigma was replied to Samson.

 

Samson accomplished his commitment,

The promised reward, he gave to them.

He did not want to stay married to his bride,

She was delivered to another, to be his wife.

With a prostitute, Samson fell in love,

Her name was Delilah, and he swore his love.

Delilah was bribed to know his secret,

She tried in many ways, but Samson was clever.

 

For many days, Delilah was tormenting him,

And Samson let her know his blessing.

That woman shaved his hair.

From that day on, the Lord left him,

The Philistines gouged out his eyes,

Like a slave, he was put in the palace of the Philistines.

 

By the Philistines, Samson was humiliated,

In the middle of people, he was mocked.

For the last time, Samson cried to the Lord,

And his crying was heard by the Lord.

In the middle of the palace, he stayed,

The central pillars, Samson pushed.

With the strength of God, he took them down,

All princes there were destroyed,

Accomplishing his last wish, Samson died.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume III.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/3nG5R5

The First Sins

Through you, everything was done,

Everything was created.

Then, a perfect world was made.

 

In this world, the Lord did the man dwells.

The man was alone.

God gave him a companion,

She was made from the first powder.

The man must love and care for her.

For them together to prosper.

 

But amid the heaven, there was an intruder,

By one snake with cheating words, they were seduced,

They sinned against the Lord and feared.

God soon discovered, and from heaven, they were expelled.

 

They were expelled from heaven and came to Earth.

They came to a world, where there is hunger and conflict.

The first battle was in its family,

The life of Abel was taken by Cain.

 

He killed him and tried to hide.

But the Sovereign Lord knows everything.

Cain was cursed, and his land did not produce anything.

He moved away from the Lord.

For the rest of his life, he continued fleeing.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume I.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/mg5w0z

The Inheritance of the Heart

Listen, my sons, to a father’s instruction; pay attention and gain understanding. I give you sound learning, so do not forsake my teaching … Hold on to instruction, do not let it go; guard it well, for it is your life. Do not set foot on the path of the wicked or walk in the way of evildoers. Avoid it, do not travel on it; turn from it and go on your way. For they cannot rest until they do evil; they are robbed of sleep till they make someone stumble. They eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence. Proverbs 4:1-2, 13-17

Elias’s voice was already a fragile whisper, but his words carried the weight of a lifetime. From his bed, surrounded by the smell of medicine and old age, he held the hand of his son, Rodrigo, and pointed to his grandson, Luan, a fifteen-year-old teenager who was looking at his phone in the corner of the room.

“Rodrigo,” Elias whispered. “The world out there… it’s the same as always. The traps just change color. Make him understand. The wisdom I gave you… pass it on to him. It is the only inheritance that matters.”

Rodrigo swallowed hard. He remembered his father saying these same things to him years ago. Back then, the words had seemed abstract. Today, he understood every syllable. He was the middle link, the man who had received the inheritance and fought not to lose it.

The problem was Luan. A good kid, but one who was being seduced by the “paths of the wicked” in their twenty-first-century version. Evil did not invite him to rob a traveler, as in the proverb. It invited him to something more subtle.

At school, popularity belonged to Valentim’s group, young people who found power in humiliation. Their “bread of wickedness” was cyberbullying. They could not sleep if they did not do evil: they created cruel memes, spread rumors in WhatsApp groups, and filmed humiliating pranks to post online. Luan, desperate to be accepted, began to laugh along, to share, to become an accomplice.

“It’s just a joke, Dad. Everyone does it,” he would say to Rodrigo when confronted.

Rodrigo tried to use his grandfather’s words. “Son, when you love wisdom, she will guard you. Do not walk with them. That path seems fun, but its end is bitterness.”

To Luan, that was a lecture. A speech disconnected from his reality.

A week after Elias’s death, Rodrigo found Luan in his room, elated.

“Dad, look at this! Valentim invited me to hang out with them! They’re going to let me in the group!”

Rodrigo’s heart went cold. He knew what that meant. Valentim had given Luan a “test”: he was to be responsible for filming the next “prank.” The target was Samuel, a shy, studious boy.

That night, Rodrigo could not sleep. He felt powerless. Shouting would not work. Forbidding him would only increase his rebellion. He prayed to God, asking for the wisdom his father had spoken of so often.

The next morning, instead of giving another lecture, Rodrigo called Luan to his furniture restoration workshop. He took out an old wooden chest, the first piece of furniture his father, Elias, had taught him to make.

“Your grandfather gave me this when I was your age,” Rodrigo said, running his hand over the worn wood. “He said my inheritance was inside it.”

Luan rolled his eyes, expecting a speech. But Rodrigo just opened the chest. Inside, there was nothing of value. Just old letters, yellowed photos, and a small Bible with a frayed leather cover.

Rodrigo picked up a letter.

“I had my Valentim, too,” he said, surprising his son. “His name was Ricardo. He invited me to join a scheme to steal car parts from the warehouse where I worked. It was the easy way. I almost went.”

He paused, looking at Luan’s attentive face.

“But the night before, your grandfather sat me down here, in this very workshop. He didn’t yell. He told me how his own father almost lost everything because of dishonesty. He told me about the shame, about the pain. He gave me the wisdom he himself had received. He made me choose.”

Rodrigo picked up the small Bible.

“He told me: ‘Wisdom is the principal thing, Rodrigo. With all your getting, get understanding.’ I chose to listen. Ricardo was arrested a month later. I stayed here, with my hands dirty with grease, but with a clean soul.”

He looked into his son’s eyes. “Luan, what you are going to do to Samuel… it is not a joke. It is the same path as Ricardo’s. It is the bread of wickedness. You are choosing which table you will eat from.”

Rodrigo closed the chest.

“The inheritance is there. The wisdom your grandfather gave me, I now give to you. The choice is yours.”

That day at school, Luan saw Valentim and his group surrounding Samuel in the courtyard. The phone in his pocket felt like it weighed a ton. He saw the fear in Samuel’s eyes and the cruel amusement in Valentim’s. And he remembered the chest. The inheritance.

He did not join the circle. Instead, he walked in the opposite direction, went to a teacher, and said:

“Sir, they’re messing with Samuel. I think he needs help.”

That night, Luan found his father in the workshop. He did not say anything, just picked up a piece of sandpaper and began to help restore an old chair. The silence between them was not one of tension, but of understanding. Luan had been tested. And, in the moment of decision, he had chosen. He had embraced wisdom, and the inheritance of his heart had guarded him.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Christ

One day, we walked spread.

Each one followed its way.

There was no help or company.

Following alone; it was a sad destiny.

 

Even being disunited, many had hope.

Waiting for something new and renewed.

The faith kept them firm and safe.

For a new alliance, they were waiting,

That One who would come from the Lord.

 

At the right time, He came,

Many people recognized and loved Him.

But others just despised Him.

They did not believe in his wonders and signals,

And they even tried to catch Him in many traps.

 

But what strength does the man have against the Lord?

What can do against the Lord a man full of sins?

They could not do anything to stop Him.

Jesus walked, healed, taught, and rescued.

The faith of his disciples was increased.

 

 

Among those who believe, one failed.

For a bit of money, his Lord, he delivered.

The Just One, the Son of Man was oppressed!

Like one innocent sheep, to the slaughter, He was led.

He received a terrible and painful punishment there.

 

Over Him, there was no condemnation.

His judges did not find any guilt in his accusations.

But “wise people” did not accept,

They led him to be crucified.

 

On that cross were paid the sins,

My, yours, and of all of us.

With extreme sacrifice, the debt was paid.

The souls of poor sinners were saved.

After the pain and suffering, He has expired.

At that moment, something great happened.

The earth shook, and the curtain of the temple was torn,

In all places had restlessness,

The sky had darkened.

For that one who died, there was much weeping.

 

After three days, God rescued Him.

By the angels, the stone was rolled,

The only and beloved son, God, resurrected.

For his people, He showed himself, and He was acknowledged,

Then, the faithful people saw the power of God.

The victory over death, Jesus got.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume I.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/mg5w0z

God is Good

The Lord God is ready to forgive,

One needs to repent and call upon Him to live.

He forgives because He is the wonderful God,

The only Living God, strong and powerful.

For Him to forgive, repentance is needed,

The person will change their life and enter a new time.

No longer matter their past live,

It will start the best time of their life.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume VII.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/38l5Oa

The Inheritance of Honor

Do not envy the violent or choose any of their ways … The Lord’s curse is on the house of the wicked, but he blesses the home of the righteous … The wise inherit honor, out fools get only shame. Proverbs 3:31, 33, 35

In the neighborhood where they grew up, Bruno was the “violent man” everyone envied. Not in the sense of physical violence, but in the aggressiveness with which he took what he wanted from life. He was the king of “schemes,” of shady deals, of intimidation. He despised the humble and mocked those who, like his childhood friend, Lucas, still believed in “working hard and being honest.”

“Lucas, you’re a joke,” Bruno would say, showing off his new car, acquired with money of dubious origin. “While you sweat to earn peanuts, I make the same in one night. That God of yours isn’t helping you much, is he?”

Lucas, who worked as a carpenter in a small workshop, felt the sting of envy. It was hard not to covet Bruno’s life. The designer clothes, the parties, the apparent ease with which everything came to him. But Lucas clung to the “secret” that his father, a simple and just man, had taught him: the peace of a clear conscience and the quiet trust that God honors the sincere.

The “blessing” in Lucas’s house was subtle, almost invisible to the world. It was the smell of homemade bread that his wife, Ana, baked. It was the way the sunlight streamed through the living room window, illuminating the wooden furniture he had made himself. It was the laughter of his children, who were growing up in a home where honesty was not an option, but the very air they breathed.

The “curse” in Bruno’s house was equally subtle, but corrosive. Despite the luxurious facade, the place was cold, silent. The arguments with his girlfriend were constant. His “partners” were dangerous men whom he feared and despised in equal measure. He did not sleep well, startled by every siren he heard on the street. The house of the wicked was a palace haunted by mistrust.

Time, the great revealer of all things, began to show the truth.

Lucas, with his reputation as an honest and detail-oriented craftsman, began to receive commissions from important clients. His small workshop grew. He became known not for his wealth, but for his honor. People did not just buy his furniture; they sought his counsel. He became a pillar in his community, a man whose word carried weight.

Bruno’s fall was as swift as his rise. One of his “schemes” went wrong. Betrayed by one of his own partners, he lost everything. The car was taken; the house was emptied. The man who mocked everyone became the target of mockery. Shame was his only companion.

One morning, Lucas was opening his workshop, now much larger and better equipped, when he saw a shrunken figure across the street. It was Bruno. Thin, haggard, wearing worn-out clothes.

Lucas crossed the street. There was no triumph in his eyes, only an old compassion. “Bruno?” he called.

Bruno looked up, expecting the scorn he himself had dished out for so long.

“Come to laugh at me, Lucas? The ‘righteous’ man won.”

“I didn’t win anything,” Lucas said, sitting beside him on the curb. “I just… built my house on different ground than you did.” He paused. “I’m looking for a helper in the workshop. The work is hard, and the pay is honest.”

Bruno stared at him, incredulous. Grace, which he had always considered a weakness, was being offered to him in his moment of greatest humiliation.

That day, as he learned to sand down a piece of rough wood under Lucas’s patient guidance, Bruno began to understand. The wise do not inherit money or power. They inherit honor. And the shame he felt was not the end of his story, but perhaps, just perhaps, the beginning of his journey toward a new path, where the blessing was not in the facade of the house, but in the foundation of the heart.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Lost Truth

Where are the believers like the Bereans?

Where are those who test what they are preaching?

Where are those who read the Word of the Lord?

Where are those who only accept the commandments of God?

Theological Christians are disappearing,

And the true church is dying.

The church that cared about the Lord,

Is being replaced by human beings’ thoughts.

The Bible is no longer taken into consideration,

The word of the brother “full of anointing” is the new direction.

The words of the prophets have been “adjusted”,

Prophecies and teachings are being despised. 

The discrediting of the Word is the fault of blind followers,

People who do not read and only believe their pastors.

They are false “wise men” blinded by their own doctrine,

None of them have the true Word of life.

The true Word is the cross of Christ, grace, and salvation,

The wonderful grace of God leads us to reconciliation.

The true Word is true and sincere repentance,

Walking in the fear of God and always being decent.

The true Word is to listen and analyze everything,

Investigating whether we can trust in some teaching.

Only then will we be acting correctly,

Testing if every sermon teaches rightly.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume VII.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/38l5Oa

Living the Future and the Present

We follow our lives very sure about what will happen,

Believing that we can do everything, we make many plans.

We live dreaming about our future will bring us many good things,

We stay thinking about the realization of our dreams.

 

Sometimes, to live in the future is the unique thing we desire,

We are sure that will be better than our present lives.

We stay so concentrated on that, and we stop living the now,

We leave everything for later; we stay repressed and never is the hour.

 

But it comes a moment when we wake up to life,

Something happens, and we notice we must live fine.

We understand there is no assurance about what will come,

We are subjected to many things, and we can control none.

 

We cannot wait for a future that we do not know if it is coming,

We must live today and do the best we can to enjoy everything.

Today and now are the only moments we are sure to live,

Tomorrow can be late; the next second can be our last breath.

This poem is part of the book Life Through the Words.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/bQpQ7d

The Neighbor in 302

Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, “Come back tomorrow and I’ll give it to you”— when you already have it with you. Do not plot harm against your neighbor, who lives trustfully near you. Do not accuse anyone for no reason— when they have done you no harm. Proverbs 3:27-30

In the “House of Flowers” condominium, Ricardo, the resident of 401, was a man of fences. His door was always locked, his expression always closed off, and his philosophy was simple: “Every man for himself.” He was the personification of the principle: ask me for nothing.

His downstairs neighbor, Davi, in 302, was the opposite. His door was often open, from which the smell of coffee and the sound of his children’s laughter would escape. Davi lived with a sense of community that Ricardo found naive and dangerous.

The difference between them was visible in the little things.

One afternoon, Mrs. Elvira, an elderly widow from the second floor, knocked on Ricardo’s door.

“My son,” she said, her voice trembling, “my gas canister ran out in the middle of making lunch. Could you lend me your spare? The gas delivery man is going to take a while.”

Ricardo, who had an extra canister in his service area, felt the inconvenience.

“Oh, Mrs. Elvira… isn’t the delivery man already on his way? Just have a little patience,” he said, closing the door gently but firmly. He had the solution, but he withheld it.

Dejected, Mrs. Elvira went down one floor and knocked on Davi’s door. Upon hearing the story, Davi did not hesitate.

“Of course, Mrs. Elvira! Wait just a minute.” He grabbed his spare canister, went up with her, and installed it, refusing any payment. He had the ability to do good, and he did it. Immediately.

Weeks later, Ricardo began planning a renovation in his apartment. His neighbor in 402, a young musician named Léo, lived in the adjacent apartment. Ricardo knew the work would make a terrible noise, but instead of talking to Léo to arrange the best times, he devised mischief.

“I’ll start the demolition on Saturday at eight in the morning. It is my right,” he thought, anticipating the confrontation. He did not seek peace, but veiled conflict.

Meanwhile, Davi was facing a similar problem. The tree on his balcony had grown, and its branches were encroaching on the window of his neighbor in 301. Instead of waiting for a complaint, he went to his neighbor’s door.

“Friend, I saw that my branches are getting in your way. I’m going to call someone to prune them this weekend. Is there a time that works best for you?”

The neighbor, surprised by the kindness, smiled.

“Not at all, Davi. Don’t worry about it. But since you brought it up, Saturday afternoon would be great.”

There was no fight, no needless strife, only respect.

The silent climax of the two neighbors’ lives came during a crisis. A severe hailstorm hit the city, breaking windows and damaging roofs. Ricardo’s car, parked on the street, had its windshield shattered. Desperate, he called his insurance, only to hear that the demand was enormous and that a tow truck would take hours, perhaps days.

As he looked forlornly at his car, he saw Davi approaching with a thick plastic tarp in his hands.

“Ricardo, I saw what happened,” Davi said, without any tone of accusation. “This won’t solve it, but at least it will protect the car’s interior from the rain until help arrives.”

Ricardo was speechless. He, who never offered anything, who planned harm against his neighbors, who withheld solutions, was now receiving help from the man he considered a fool.

“I… I don’t know how to thank you, Davi,” he stammered.

Davi smiled, a genuine smile. “There’s no need. We’re neighbors. We help each other.”

And with that simple sentence, he did not just cover Ricardo’s car; he covered his shame and taught him, without a single word of preaching, about the power of generosity, faithfulness, and peace. That day, Ricardo began to understand that true security was not in locking doors, but in knowing that, in a storm, there would be someone willing to open theirs for you.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL