Yaldaboath Exit

Yaldaboath exit

Wake up. Stand up. Pick up your tools. The earth is waiting. The stone is cold. The day is young.

I build today. I build for tomorrow. I build houses for the weary. I build castles for the dreamers. I build empires for the ones who come after me. Every nail is a promise. Every stone is a prayer. Every wall I raise is a shelter from despair.

I will build until my hands are worn. I will build until my heart is torn. And when I fall, I will rise again. One more lifetime. One more plan. One more chance to build a home for man.

Love is not a feeling. Love is a foundation. Love is the mortar between the bricks. Love is the roof that keeps the rain out. Love is the fire in the hearth. I build for my children. I build for my neighbors. I build for the stranger I have not yet met. This is my offering. This is my debt.

It may take a thousand lives. It may take a million tries. But I will carve perfection from the stone. God will see my work and know: “This one built with heart and soul.” And when He calls my name, I will have the choice to stay or go.

But I love this life too much. I love the taste of rain. I love the weight of timber. I love the ache in my back at the end of a long day. I love the laughter of the ones I’ve housed. I love the gardens I have grown. I love the scars on my hands. They are my trophies. They are my throne.

So I build. And I build. And I build again. One brick. One beam. One life. One friend. I will reach my perfection, not because I must, but because I love the dust. And when the gate swings open, I will look at it and say: “Not yet. I have one more wall to raise today.”

Build. Love. Stay. Build again.