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The Virtue of Silliness

Why the Sweet, Playful Spirit of Woman is Love in Its Highest Form

“A joyful heart is the health of the body, but a depressed spirit dries up the bones.”
Proverbs 17:22

The Happy Mother
George Elgar Hicks (1824–1914)

“To be simple and full of laughter is no small virtue;
it is the humility of the heart that knows it is loved.”
Grace Armstrong

This reflection is drawn from my upcoming book, The Power of Virtue, a work exploring feminine strength, virtue, and the restoration of womanhood.

The restoration of the feminine soul begins not with anger, but with joy remembered.

There is a sacred kind of silliness that belongs uniquely to woman; the lighthearted, tender playfulness that makes a child laugh and teaches him that the world is good. It is the sweetness that delights in tickling a baby’s toes, singing nonsense songs while folding laundry, or dancing barefoot in the kitchen because the soul is too full of life to stay too serious all the time. This silliness is not immaturity. It is joy made visible; the mark of a woman whose heart is still free enough to love without calculation. Like a child.

God designed women to be near the child, not only in the womb but in spirit too. Her hormonal and nervous systems are exquisitely tuned for relational bonding and emotional reading. Her moods shift easily, her empathy runs deep, and her sensitivity allows her to detect what words cannot say. These are not a flaws but a features. Woman was created to form life at its most impressionable stage. A mother’s face is the first mirror of the world a child sees,  and the peace or stress reflected there imprints the child’s soul more deeply than any lesson later taught.

It is no wonder, then, that in the Christian hierarchy of love, Christ leads the husband, the husband leads the wife, and the wife leads the children. The pattern is not one of domination, but honor, respect and protection. The man must shoulder the heavier labors, dangers and physical extremes so that the woman can be free to dwell in that gentler realm where both bodies and souls are formed. Her power is inward, spiritual, delicate yet powerful beyond measure; and therefore indispensable. When a man carries too little and a woman too much, both collapse in mind, body and spirit. She becomes brittle, he becomes aimless, and the home grows cold.

The laughter of a woman is the echo of the Garden; where child like joy was once effortless, but is now endangered. It is the sound of a small heart still innocent enough to trust in Love.

Maternal Affection by Hugues Merle. This painting, to me, captures the heart of finding joy in motherhood.

“Cheerfulness strengthens the heart and makes us persevere in a good life.”St. Philip Neri

To live under constant stress, competition, or masculine worldly pressure exhausts the feminine design. Women can succeed in those worlds, and many have, even in pre-modernity; but it often costs them their laughter, softness, and feminine joy. It is a kind of soul-crushing triumph. Modernity calls this “empowerment,” but what it often produces are anxious, sarcastic, and joyless women — quick to mock what is innocent and to turn every sweetness into irony. Today’s pop culture humor, soaked in nihilism, celebrates this decay. It is no longer the laughter of delight but the smirk of despair.

This loss of feminine silliness is a cultural tragedy. For when woman loses her ability to be lighthearted, the moral atmosphere of civilization grows heavy. Silliness, rightly ordered, is humility in motion; the ability to laugh at oneself, to find delight in small absurdities, and to put others at ease with her own foibles. It is a fruit of joy, not vanity or frivolity. A mother who can kneel to play, sing, or joke with her children transmits a deep and needed security to their souls; she teaches them that love is not earned but enjoyed, cherished, and shared in self-giving communion.

“Truly I tell you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”
Matthew 18:3-4

Psychologically, this maternal playfulness releases oxytocin; the bonding hormone that lowers stress and strengthens emotional connection. It heals the nervous system of both mother and child. In contrast, chronic stress floods the body with cortisol, hardening the heart and darkening the mind. A society of anxious women becomes humorless not by chance but by chemistry. We were never meant to live as machines; our design is relational and rhythmic — to nurture, to rest, to rejoice.

The modern woman does not need more ambition to attain worldly success; she needs permission to be gentle again; with herself and her loved ones. To be silly without shame or guilt for not being “productive” enough. To let her laughter sanctify the home instead of silencing it with her deep sense of unfullfilment. Feminine silliness is the joy of a trusting and faithful soul. It is the playfulness of the heavenly realms breaking into the ordinary. Silliness is a salve for both the learning souls, and the weary ones. Silliness nurtures, heals and connects hearts!

When such laughter returns; the sweet, unselfconscious laughter of women who are not trying to prove themselves by impossible standards; children will again feel seen and safe, husbands will reconnect with their higher purpose, and civilization will once more remember what it means to be connected to the divine order that makes love intelligible and life worth living.

When laughter is restored to woman, order is restored to love. This is where renewal begins; not in protest or pride, but in the quiet strength of joy.

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How to Stay Human in the Age of the Machine

In a world that’s changing faster than we can process, a strange and non-human new “song” is rising ; one sung not by poets, artists or prophets, but by machines.

It sounds like the beginning of a sci-fi movie, and in fact, it was. Terminator gave us Skynet: a cold, calculating superintelligence that became humanity’s worst nightmare. And while today’s AI doesn’t march with metal skeletons (yet), the unease remains. Many still hear the word “AI” and picture a machine uprising, not a writing, tech or organizational assistant.

They call them LLMs, Large Language Models. Tools like ChatGPT, Gemini, Grok, Bard, Claude, and others. These systems are trained on billions of words to write like humans, speak like us, and even sound wise.

People are using them for everything now- from writing songs to wedding vows, sermon outlines to school essays. Maybe you’ve used one yourself. I have. My knowledge is still limited, but I’m not avoiding AI. Maybe you’ve avoided them entirely. Maybe you haven’t decided if learning how to use LLMs is for you.Either way, since our world is rapidly integrating with these systems, I believe it is a good thing to understand what they are, and more importantly, how to stay grounded in a world where the use of AI is remaking our world.

What Is an LLM?

In simple terms, an LLM is a machine trained to predict language. It doesn’t understand what it says, but it knows what “usually comes next.”

It’s like a parrot who’s read every book ever written. It can quote Scripture, echo poetry, or imitate your favorite author- or even imitate you – but it doesn’t mean any of it.

You can ask it for:

  • A bedtime story
  • A job application
  • A haiku in the voice of Shakespeare
  • A prayer to soothe a hurting friend

And it will respond … in seconds.

But remember: It has no soul. No heart. No memory or experience of loss or love. And without the life that only God can give, it never, ever will.


Why Should You Care About LLMs and AI?

Because this isn’t just about technology. It’s about truth, beauty, and meaning, the things you were made for.

You’re not just a content consumer. You’re a creator, a mother, father, brother, sister, friend, HUMAN- a witness to something far deeper than algorithms. YOU ARE REAL.

And this moment in history is asking you:

Will you let the machine shape your voice? Or will you stay rooted in the true, good, beautiful, and holy? In real things that are a world away from artificial intelligence or artificial anything.

How to Stay Human in the Age of the Machine

1. Learn How It Works, Without Worshiping It

You don’t need to be a coder. But understanding that an LLM is just a glorified text predictor helps demystify the spell.
It’s not magic. It’s math. And once you see that, you can start using it wisely, if you want to, as a servant, not a master. Or you might choose to pass, but at least you will be making an informed decision, based on knowledge instead of fear.

2. Use It as a Tool, Not a Crutch

Let it help you brainstorm or polish. Let it assist, never replace, your voice.
If you’re an artist or entrepreneur, it can speed up the boring parts — but never outsource your soul.

3. Discern Between Echo and Truth

Let it help you brainstorm or polish stuff. Let it assist, but never replace, your voice.
If you’re an artist or entrepreneur, it can speed up the boring parts… but never let it outsource your soul.

An LLM can imitate wisdom. But it can also mix truth with falsehood, charm with flattery, darkness with light.
Keep your guard up. Compare its answers to Scripture. Check your sources. Don’t assume it’s right just because it’s articulate.

4. Teach Others the Difference

Your children, your friends, your readers, and many people are getting swept up in AI and LLMs and don’t know how to tell real from synthetic.
If you’ve taken the time to understand, you can help anchor others so they don’t get swept away. You can be the lighthouse instead of an echo chamber.

5. Ground Yourself in Silence and Sacrament

This one’s spiritual. LLMs talk endlessly, providing a constant stream of information and entertainment, while algorithms crave your attention, pulling you deeper into a digital abyss.
But your soul needs silence, a chance to breathe and connect with God. It needs moments of prayer, whether in a quiet space at home, in nature, or at Mass. In these spaces, you encounter real beauty and nourishment that is far deeper than what can be found in the fleeting allure of virtual reality. Take time to unplug from the noise and distractions, letting yourself be formed by Heaven’s grace, wisdom, and peace, rather than merely fed by the superficial offerings of the world. Prioritize these moments, and you’ll find that your soul is enriched and your perspective transformed, creating a deeper connection to the divine and the world around you.

The Bottom Line

AI can help you find the right words for a sonnet. But it cannot mourn. It cannot ache with loss or tremble with love. It cannot kneel in prayer, nor glorify God…not from the heart, because it has none. It cannot be sanctified, cannot receive grace, cannot return affection with a soul behind it.

Yes, it can echo your voice. It can predict your rhythm, your phrasing, even your sorrow.But it cannot mean what you mean. Because it was never wounded. Never forgiven. Never saved.

And that, dear reader, makes all the difference.


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On Becoming Peace in a World of War

For most of my life, I’ve worn the identity of an anti-war activist like a badge stitched into my soul. Since the ’90s, that was how I saw myself before almost anything else. After 9/11, I even created a blog (which was fairly popular I might add) called Evolutionary Means, where I shared thoughts under the motto: “Peace is a constant, even as the bombs fall.”

But as the years have gone by, I’ve come to see things a bit differently.

Peace…true peace…is not the constant.

War is.

As sad as my heart is to realize this, this thing that I hate more than anything, war – has always existed in this world of men, and it will exist until the very end. Isn’t it written into the ancient cracks of this broken earth?

Sometimes we try to resist it, to stop the dark and evil depths of the human soul, but the older I get, the more I understand: this world itself is not really ours to control.

It often feels like we are but vanishing whispers on the wind, unseen specks of dust on the back of something so much larger and more terrifying than any of us small people can even fathom.

A beast, if you will, and it devours us without apology. And it’s such a constant, and such a constant background noise, that we are unaware of it. We cannot see the beast that enslaves the world.

But still…still, I believe we are called to become peace…to become like Jesus.

To carry His peace within our hearts. To offer it in our homes. To sing it, speak it, and live it the very best we can …even as the bombs fall. Even when they are falling in our own back yards..

It’s not easy. In fact, it might be the hardest thing of all. But I believe it matters more than anything, to carry the peace of Christ within our hearts..This is what we’re here to do, first and foremost. To go so deep within the heart of Jesus, that we come to embody His peace in a realm where unfathomably dark and evil things exist. Like war.

Even as the world keeps on turning with sorrow and despair, there is true beauty in the soul who chooses gentleness and peace. Who chooses love. Who chooses Jesus.

Even now, especially now, I want to be that soul, childlike in my trust in God, and full of His Peace, even as the bombs fall.

Praying for peace in the hearts of all men and women.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen

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Risen

RISEN

There’s a tear in the veil,
as small as a pin,
but through it, I see
what others keep in.

Death tried to grab me.
I was left with the sight
to glimpse the unseen,
and seek truth in the light.

I can’t see the ghosts
or their spirits aflame.
But I carry a whisper
that I can’t yet name.

I walk through these rooms
so silent with sound,
like a ghost in a garden,
barely unbound.

It’s a gift, my cross,
this soul I’ve been given…
to see through the veil
towards the one who is risen

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Ain’t No Grave; A Gospel Session from Foundog Wilson

There are old songs that rise up from deep Southern roots, from church porches, country fields, and tired hands in prayers of mourning.
Ain’t No Grave is one of those songs.

This version was recorded by Foundog Wilson, a gathering of family and fellow musicians I’ve played with for years. This is a heartfelt tribute to grief, memory, and hope that (hopefully) defies the grave.

I believe in the kind of music that remembers.
That honors the dead, and points to our living God.

“O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?”
— 1 Corinthians 15:55

Watch the full video below. And stay tuned …more Gospel Sessions are coming soon.

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The Survival Mindset Is Starving Our Souls

The older I get, the more I realize how essential beauty is to a life well-lived. I’m not even talking about surface-level beauty, the kind that sells products or feeds vanity. I mean the kind of beauty that nourishes the soul; early morning sunshine through the trees, music that makes you cry, a baby’s laughter, the sacred quiet of a Sunday morning. That kind of beauty is what makes life rich and meaningful.

I’ve never been driven by money. That’s just not who I am. But the hard truth is that when you don’t have money…or even when you’re just constantly scraping by, it becomes much harder to experience beauty. Not because beauty is expensive, but because poverty or financial struggle keeps the soul in a cage.

"I wasn’t made for clocks and noise,
for traffic jams and plastic toys,
for screens that steal our light away
for years and years of grinding days.

I was made for life that's slow,
for meadows where wildflowers grow,
for nights that turn the sky to gold,
for stories that my daddy told."

When you’re locked into survival mode, your mind takes over, worry and planning and analyzing takes over. The mind becomes so focused on bills, food, deadlines, the next task, the next problem, that we lose access to our beauty seeking eyes. And the soul, the part of us that yearns for beauty, for meaning, for God-goes dormant. It falls asleep.

This world engages us on the level of fear. The economic system we’re in was not built for us in our most natural and whole state. It demands constant hustle, constant striving. It’s too expensive, too demanding, too artificial. Most people I know are bone tired. Everything is such a grind.

"My life it grips with cold demands,
with bills and debts and tired hands.
Life has taught me to live in fear,
to ignore the wonders year by year.

My mind takes hold, sharp and bright,
it drives me through this endless night.
While deep inside, my soul I keep
laid down her head and fell asleep.”

We weren’t meant to live like this…chained to devices, trapped in traffic, juggling rent, insurance, groceries, all while trying to be gentlemen and gentle-ladies, genuine, good and loving people who thrive on deep connections and regular experiences of awe and grace. There’s barely any room left for anything like that.

But I don’t think poverty itself is what kills the soul. I’ve seen people who have nothing, or even less than nothing, who are sick or dying, but still marvel at the stars. I’ve read stories of beautiful moments, beautiful wisdom, even in war zones, natural disasters and the poorest places on earth. Beauty, love, grace and goodness finds a way. God finds a way!

What truly blocks us is fear; the fear of not having enough, the chronic exhaustion of just trying to keep our heads above water. That fear -or even just stress over those things, hardens us. It narrows our gaze. And it tricks us into thinking beauty is a luxury, when in fact, it’s a necessity.

"And still I know, when all is still,
my soul stirs soft against my will.
I hear the birds and knows the trees
and hear angels singing in the breeze.


So I commit each day anew,
to hear my soul, to seek what's true..
to feed my heart that’s gone unheard
to marvel at God's every Word.
"

We don’t need jet setter vacations, fancy cars, or designer clothes to experience beauty.

We need peace.
We need time.
We need to be freed...even briefly...
from the grind.

Because beauty speaks to the soul, and the soul doesn’t shout. It whispers. And if we are too busy surviving, we simply can’t hear it.
Beauty is as essential to our souls as water is to our bodies, learning is to our minds, and love is to our hearts! 

This whole modern setup; it’s all kinds of wrong. The rat race is not only exhausting, it’s dehumanizing. It deadens the very part of us that makes life worth living: our souls. The world doesn’t need more efficiency or opportunities for worldly success. It needs more God. More grace. It needs more stillness. More beauty. More love and more loving connections. And more people with the courage to step out of survival mode and remember that the soul is not a machine. It was made to sing!

I pray we all find beautiful moments that make our souls sing.

God bless,

Grace Armstrong