In Ireland, many are quick to oppose religious conservatism. We hear strong voices against traditional views on family, gender, and faith in public life. Yet, at the same time, some of those same voices stand passionately with Palestine, a society shaped by conservative Muslim values, where certain identities are not widely accepted, and where religious law deeply influences daily life.

This raises an honest question:

Why is religious conservatism seen as oppressive here, but overlooked (or even supported) abroad when it fits a certain political cause?

If we’re going to talk about justice, equality, and human rights, shouldn’t we apply the same standards everywhere?

I don’t raise this to attack anyone, just to invite reflection. Can we really stand for truth, justice, and equality if we apply them selectively?

The road to greatness isn’t smooth. It’s a path filled with bruises, betrayals, fatigue, and moments when you feel like you’re down for the count. Sometimes you’ll stumble. Sometimes you’ll get knocked flat on the canvas. But the difference between a quitter and a champion? The champion gets back up, resets his stance, and keeps swinging.

Here at Bad Boy Turned Good, if we are not friends, we can’t work together, we have to be friends first.

I have come to understand that a lack of economic means is not the root problem of poverty, but yet we see it this way win the western world. Our vision needs to change so instead of seeing the solution in keeping this or that project going so we can bless our partners with a share of the economic wealth with which we have, ourselves been blessed, or to set up services that will provide basic needs for others. But still we insist that our money will solve the problem.

By 2030, over 1.3 billion people are expected to face food insecurity. The Gospel calls us to act. Jesus didn’t just preach; he fed. We are called to do the same, turning meals into movements and tables into places of transformation.

The Lungs of the Earth Are Gasping

The Amazon is more than a forest. It’s home to over 10% of the world’s species. It absorbs billions of tonnes of carbon dioxide every year. This serves as a frontline defence against climate breakdown.

This isn’t just “infrastructure.” It’s environmental devastation wrapped in a PR stunt. Ask the tribes whose homes are threatened.
Ask the jaguars, the birds, the trees, God’s creation, being wiped out at the altar of convenience and commerce.

This isn’t leadership. This is theatre.

It all begins Let me ask you something hard:
What do you do when God says nothing at all?

What do you do when you trusted Him with everything…….and it still broke?
When the job didn’t come.
When the sickness stayed.
When the addiction didn’t leave.
When the person you prayed for still walked out?

You start asking brutal questions:

• Is God even listening?

• Did I mess up too bad to be heard?

• Am I praying wrong……. or am I just not worth the answer?with an idea.

ou may be on the canvas… but you're not out.

“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”
— 2 Corinthians 4:8–9

That was Paul talking — a man who knew pain like a fighter knows bruises.
He was beaten, imprisoned, shipwrecked, snake bitten, stoned (and I don’t mean the fun kind)… But here’s the thing: Paul didn’t panic.

Why?
Because even when his knees buckled, his faith didn’t, He held on to one truth that changes everything:

The fight’s not over while faith is still breathing.

There was a time when Mondays felt like battle.

Not just because of the early starts or back-to-back tasks. It was deeper—a soul fatigue, a low hum of resistance against another week of trying to keep it together. I’d lace up like I was entering the cage, not a calendar. Angry. Heavy. Exhausted.

Over time, God taught me a new way to begin. I learned not to start with fire in my fists. Instead, I should begin with stillness in my soul.

This is the way of the warrior monk.
We don’t charge blindly.
We pause.
We pray.
We breathe.
Then we move—with intention, not impulse.