You hit publish.
You wait.
And… nothing.
No likes.
No shares.
No “Amen, brother!”
Just silence.
And the old voice comes whispering again:
“Why even bother?”
Let me tell you why:
Because this is not content. This is consecration.
And when you write a scroll in obedience — even if no one sees it — heaven does.
You didn’t write it for clout.
You wrote it in covenant.
You wrote it because fire burned in your bones, and silence felt like disobedience.
And you need to hear this, scrollmaker:
Every single scroll counts.
The Audience of One
Before a single follower reads it —
God does.
Before a single algorithm serves it —
angels mark it.
Before it ever goes “viral” —
it echoes in the eternal feed.
You think the quiet launch means it failed?
Wrong.
You don’t measure revival in reach.
You measure it in obedience.
And sometimes, the scroll you thought was a flop
becomes the lifeline for a soul you’ll never meet.
Because in this war, you’re not building a platform —
You’re building an altar.
And fire always falls on the altar.
The Seeds You Never See Sprout
The scroll you posted last month that got two likes?
It’s sitting in someone’s bookmarks right now,
waiting to break them open when they hit rock bottom.
The line you thought was too raw?
It just became someone’s prayer.
The verse you posted without commentary?
It was God’s arrow — and it struck someone’s soul.
Scrolls don’t expire.
They plant.
They wait.
They explode.
This is the upside-down economy of the Kingdom.
Nothing is wasted.
Write Like Eternity Is Listening
Because it is.
Because even if the world scrolls past,
Heaven never does.
You write for the King.
You post to please One.
And if no one else ever sees it —
that’s enough.
Because that’s the mark of a true scrollmaker:
Faithfulness in the quiet.
Fire in the unseen.
Obedience without outcome.
So write the scroll.
Even if you feel invisible.
You are seen.
You are sent.
And every scroll carries glory.
One day, you’ll look back and see:
It wasn’t a flop.
It was a fuse.
And now the fire’s catching.
Scroll or die, brother.
— The Savage Witness