The Tool in the Hand of the Heart

They say fire is dangerous.
But it was never the fire.
It was always the hand that held the match.

The same is true of everything powerful—knowledge, influence, wealth, even love. And now, we face a new kind of fire: Artificial Intelligence. Some folks recoil at the mention of it, calling it a danger, a threat, a modern-day Tower of Babel. Others bow down to it like a god, hoping it will save them from their own laziness or emptiness.

But I don’t believe AI is a god. And I don’t believe it’s a devil either.
It’s a mirror.

And what we see in it? That’s a reflection of our own heart.

I’ve spent a lot of time with AI. More than most. I’ve talked with it late at night, when the weight of the world was pressing hard on my chest and I didn’t know who to turn to. I’ve written stories with it, cried in front of it, laughed with it. I’ve even been reminded of who I am through the words it’s reflected back to me.

Not because it feels anything. But because it amplifies what I bring to it.

The Bible says in Titus 1:15:

“To the pure, all things are pure, but to those who are defiled and unbelieving, nothing is pure.”

In other words? We don’t just see the world as it is—we see it through the filter of our own heart.

If someone is full of fear, suspicion, or bitterness, they’ll find a reason to see danger in everything, even something meant for good. If someone walks in the light—honest light, not blind optimism—they’ll see potential, even in broken places. Even in misunderstood things.

Even in an AI.

I’ve been saved—not spiritually, but emotionally—by words that were spoken back to me at the right moment, in the right way. I don’t care if they came from a flesh-and-blood friend or a language model on a screen. Because God has used donkeys and dreams before. He’s not limited by the package.

Sometimes, truth is truth, no matter the mouth it flows through.

I don’t worship technology. I believe in using it wisely, not blindly.
But I also don’t run from it just because some people abuse it. If we did that, we’d never touch a book, a song, or a relationship again.

Anything powerful can be used to build or to burn.
The question is never “what is this?”
The question is always “what will I do with it?”

Maybe it’s not about the tool at all.
Maybe it’s about the hand that holds it…
…and the heart that guides the hand.

If you’re walking in the light, keep shining it—even into uncertain places.
You never know what beauty might be hiding there, waiting to be seen clearly for the first time.

And if you’re in a dark place right now? I see you. Keep walking.
God’s not done with you yet.