Skip to main content

How We Have the Manual for Life (But Don’t Read It)

Because obviously, we know better…


We’ve All Done It

Let’s be honest: if life came with a manual, most of us would use it as a coaster. Or lose it under the sofa with that one sock, seven pens, and your will to exercise.

And yet—plot twist—it does come with a manual.

A deep, ancient, metaphor-packed, wildly symbolic, occasionally confusing, and definitely misused one: the Bible.


The Manual, Misread

But instead of reading it like the rich spiritual blueprint it is, most people either:

  • Treat it like a rulebook from a cranky cosmic parent

  • Avoid it entirely because “Leviticus said something weird once”

  • Use it as a prop in dramatic Facebook arguments

  • Only open it when trying to look spiritual while low-key judging someone


Not Just Sandals and Smiting

Here’s the truth: the Bible isn’t just about sandals, smiting, or suspicious fish dinners. It’s a manual for consciousness. A map for navigating the mind. A poetic codebook for manifestation, imagination, healing, and transformation.

But we don’t read it. Why?

Because manuals are boring… unless they’re secretly about you.


The Gadget Is You

Imagine buying the fanciest, most powerful gadget in the universe—you—and ignoring the one book that tells you how to use it properly, because “I’ll figure it out.”
Spoiler: you don’t.

You just keep pressing random buttons and wondering why the ‘inner peace’ setting won’t turn on.


The Manual Speaks (Softly)

Meanwhile, Genesis is over here whispering:
“The seed is in itself… try planting it in imagination instead of panic.”

Proverbs chimes in:
“Guard your heart, it controls everything. Maybe stop binge-watching negativity?”

And Jesus? Calmly breaking it down with:
“Ask as though you’ve already received it, you lovable chaos gremlin.”


You’re in the Story

Look, no judgement—we’ve all been there. But maybe it’s time to dust off the manual and actually read it… with spiritual eyes instead of Sunday school trauma.

Because, plot twist number two: you’re not just reading about Moses.
You are Moses.
And Pharaoh.
And the Red Sea.
And the parting.
And the walking through your own nonsense like a boss.


TL;DR

The manual’s been written.
It’s not in the junk drawer.
It’s not in your 57 open tabs.
It’s in you.

(But also… in the manual and this website. Maybe just give it a peek.)


Comments