Dear Diary,

April 04, 2025

Let’s be honest. If Samson lived in 2025, he’d probably have a blue tick on Instagram, a gym selfie routine, and a PR crisis manager on speed dial. Picture this: a man with supernatural strength, chosen from birth, with a divine six-pack and a purpose bigger than his biceps. He’s not just your average motivational poster—he is the poster.

But what do you do when you’re born with power and purpose? Well, if you’re Samson, you flirt with disaster. Repeatedly.

Now, let’s not pretend we’re better. Everyone has that one thing. That text you shouldn’t reply to. That extra drink you shouldn’t order. That shady ex you keep “just checking in” on. For Samson, her name was Delilah. And Delilah was not texting back for closure.

Let’s rewind.

Samson, a Nazarite from birth, was told very clearly:

• No wine.
• No razors.
• No touching dead things.

Three things. That’s it. And somehow, he still said: “Bet.”

First, he sees a lion. Kills it (as one does), then days later, finds honey in its dead body. Logic? Zero. Hygiene? Non-existent. But Samson scoops the honey, eats it like it’s a protein bar, and shares it with his parents. Imagine showing up at brunch with, “Hey Dad, I brought organic lion-honey.” The man was wild.

But God? God just kept blessing him.

That’s the part that really hits. He broke all the rules. And God didn’t snatch his strength back immediately. Because grace isn’t a tap you turn off when you sin—it’s a river that keeps flowing even when you’re swimming upstream.

Then comes Delilah.

She asks Samson three times about the source of his strength. Each time, he lies and each time, she sells him out. But does our gym bro Samson leave? No. He stays. Probably says things like “She’s different” or “I like a woman who challenges me.”

By the fourth time—after three obvious betrayals—he spills the truth.

“My strength is in my hair.”

Delilah calls her boys. They cut his hair. The Philistines blind him. Chain him. Parade him like a fool.

A fall from grace? Absolutely. But here’s the twist.

God doesn’t cancel him.

Samson, blind and broken, starts praying. Not the cute TikTok-aesthetic kind. The real, ugly kind. And in that moment—without a strand of hair on his head—his strength starts to return. The Bible says, “his hair began to grow again.” A poetic way of saying: redemption starts in the dark.

At his lowest, Samson does more for his people than he ever did at his strongest.

So what’s the lesson for 2025?

We are all Samson.

We know what weakens us.
We flirt with the edges of destruction.
We call it “vibes.”
We call it “situationship.”
We call it “one more time.”

But sometimes, even with the warnings, the signs, and the second chances, we still fall.

And still—grace shows up. Not as a trophy for the perfect, but as a hand for the humbled because God is God.

In this April of new beginnings, ask yourself: What’s your Delilah? What’s your lion-honey? What rule are you breaking while hoping grace doesn’t run out?

And maybe more importantly: What if your greatest comeback is on the other side of your biggest mess-up?

So, if you’ve fallen—just know, you’re not finished. Because failure isn’t final!

Yours-in-weakness,