If God would have wanted us to live in a permissive society He

Hear, O traveler upon the path of life, the words of Zig Ziglar, spoken with fire and clarity: “If God would have wanted us to live in a permissive society He would have given us Ten Suggestions and not Ten Commandments.” These words are not to be taken lightly, for they strike at the very foundation of human existence—the difference between law and whim, between eternal order and fleeting desire. They remind us that the pillars of life are not built on shifting sands, but upon unyielding rock. Suggestions may whisper, but commandments thunder; they call us not to consider but to obey, not to bend with every wind, but to stand as mountains in the storm.

For what is a permissive society but a land without boundaries, where every man becomes his own law, and every desire is crowned as a king? It is a place where discipline is mocked and self-restraint is forgotten, where the line between good and evil is blurred until nothing remains but confusion. Yet God, in His wisdom, gave to Moses not suggestions that may be kept or cast aside, but commandments carved in stone—unchangeable, eternal, binding. He did not ask for men’s opinions, nor did He weigh the fashions of an age. He declared with divine authority, “This you shall do, and this you shall not do,” for without such absolutes, humanity drifts into chaos.

Consider the story of Sparta, the ancient city-state. Its laws were not suggestions, but unbending commands. From birth to death, Spartans were bound by the discipline of their code. Harsh it was, and unyielding, but by its strength they stood as one of the fiercest peoples of history, feared by empires and remembered for ages. Had their laws been mere recommendations, Sparta would have dissolved into weakness, and their legacy would have perished in silence. This tale, though not divine, bears the same lesson: strength comes from command, not suggestion; from discipline, not indulgence.

And look upon our own times, where societies that once held firm to the commandments of virtue and duty have allowed themselves to soften into indulgence. Where once honor and sacrifice were praised, now ease and convenience are adored. Yet history is merciless: civilizations that abandon discipline wither, while those who hold to moral law endure. The fall of Rome is testament enough. When Romans held fast to order and duty, their empire rose in might; when they gave themselves to pleasure and permissiveness, the very foundations crumbled beneath them.

But let us not mistake the nature of these commandments. They are not chains to enslave, but anchors to steady the soul. They free a man from the tyranny of his own passions, from the slavery of indulgence that masquerades as freedom. The commandments of God are as the laws of the sea: stern, unyielding, yet by them the sailor finds safe passage through the storm. Without them, the ship is at the mercy of the waves, dashed upon the rocks of desire and ruin.

The lesson, then, is clear and eternal: a life guided by commandments is strong, ordered, and fruitful, while a life led by mere suggestions is unstable and soon undone. Do not despise boundaries, for they are the walls that guard the garden of the soul. Do not seek a path of endless indulgence, for it leads not to joy but to emptiness. Instead, embrace the discipline of law, the clarity of truth, and the strength of obedience.

What, then, shall you do in your own days? Hold fast to your principles, even when the world mocks them. Teach your children not that “all is permitted,” but that certain things must never be done, and others must always be done. Live not by whim but by conviction. Let your word be as solid as stone, your honor as unyielding as steel. By doing so, you not only uphold the commandments of old, but you build a fortress of character that no storm of temptation can tear down.

So let Ziglar’s words echo in your heart: suggestions fade like mist in the morning sun, but commandments endure like the mountains. Choose to live not in the weakness of permissiveness, but in the strength of law, discipline, and truth. Thus shall your life be firm, your soul unshaken, and your legacy a beacon to those yet unborn.