Don’t Sit in the Seat of the Scornful

Don’t Sit in the Seat of the Scornful

By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

My grandmother Celestine and my mother Marva had the kind of faith that could make you question reality. It wasn’t just strong it was unshakable, the kind of belief that seemed almost irrational to anyone who didn’t understand. When life threw punches, they stood firm, trusting the Creator with a certainty that defied logic. Meanwhile, the rest of the world? Complaining. Always complaining.

These days, it feels like that’s all people do. Everything’s a problem. Too hot, too cold. Too fast, too slow. Nothing ever seems good enough. We tear everything apart, finding flaws in places we never even looked for blessings. And before we know it, we’ve made a home in negativity, sitting comfortably in the seat of the scornful, judging, critiquing, and never really living.

But that wasn’t Celestine and Marva’s way. My grandmother used to say, "If you spend all your time pointing out the cracks in the road, you’ll never appreciate the journey." She understood something most people miss complaining keeps you stuck. It’s like quicksand for the soul. The more you dwell on what’s wrong, the deeper you sink. And once you make negativity a habit, it’s hard to climb out.

I’ve been there myself. I’ve let frustration take over, let bitterness creep in. And I’ll tell you what it never made anything better. Complaints don’t heal wounds. Cynicism doesn’t open doors. But faith? Faith changes everything.

That’s what my mother Marva embodied. She didn’t waste time whining about what wasn’t working she was too busy praying for what would. She had this way of speaking life into the darkest situations, flipping problems into possibilities. I remember once, during a particularly rough time in my life, I went to her venting, listing everything that was wrong, expecting her to sympathize. She just looked at me and said, "You done? Or do you want to start speaking like someone who believes the Creator has already made a way?"

That hit me. Hard.

Because she was right. Every word we speak is planting something. We’re either growing weeds of negativity or fields of possibility. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I refuse to be someone who feeds the darkness.

The world doesn’t need more critics. It doesn’t need more people pointing fingers and rolling their eyes. It needs believers. It needs people with the kind of faith that makes others stop and wonder, How do they stay so sure? It needs people who, instead of tearing things down, are building something up.

And that’s exactly why I write.

I didn’t always want to. I ran from it. I tried other paths, chased different dreams, convinced myself that writing wasn’t it. But no matter how far I strayed, the Creator always pulled me back. Writing isn’t just something I do it’s something I’ve been chosen to do. I believe, without a doubt, that the Creator is using my words to reach every creed, class, race, religion, age, and background. I may never see millions in a bank account, but my spiritual wealth? It’s overflowing.

So, I’m done sitting in the seat of the scornful. I choose faith. I choose purpose. And I choose to keep writing because this is what I was made for.

Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar