THE GREATEST COMPLIMENT YOU COULD GIVE ME (“Your Writings Must Be AI-Generated”)

It’s a funny world we live in—one where the greatest compliment anyone could give my writing is to accuse it of being AI‑generated. Truly, that’s rich.

AI does not write my material; AI does not breathe my sentences into being; AI does not sit with Scripture open, praying and pondering and shaping a thought until it sings. What AI does is simple—it helps polish, smooth, edit, and arrange. It gives me tools that once only the wealthy or well‑resourced could ever dream of having. Spurgeon had editors, transcribers, assistants—entire teams capturing his sermons, shaping his words, sending them to print. I don’t have that luxury. But I do have a device in my hand and a little app that lets me clean things up. If anything, modern tools only liberate the writer—they don’t replace him. If he’s honest and refuses to intentionally deceive or plagiarize.

And if you doubt that I write these words myself, I’ll make you a friendly offer: put your money where your mouth is. Let’s meet at Starbucks. Bring your suspicion, bring your skepticism, bring whatever proof you think you need—and then tell me right there, on the spot, what you want written. I’ll pull out a pen, or open a note, or speak straight into a recorder, and I’ll write it while you watch—real‑time, no tricks, no invisible elves hiding behind the Wi‑Fi. If I do it, you owe me fifty bucks (or at least twenty). And trust me—I write fast. I’ve always written fast. I can type quickly, I think quickly, and now I can even dictate quickly. That’s not artificial intelligence; that’s just how God wired me.

There is nothing wrong with using tools. There is nothing dishonest about letting technology polish what your heart and mind already produced. A potter uses a wheel, a carpenter uses a saw, a preacher uses a microphone, and a writer uses whatever helps the words find their best shape. The tool never creates the vision—it only helps carry it. If AI can smooth my grammar or untangle a sentence that came out sideways, why wouldn’t I use it? But the ideas, the heartbeat, the rhythm, the convictions—those come from me. They always have. They always will.

So if someone says, “This sounds too clean, too polished, too good—it must be AI,” I’ll take that as the highest compliment they could give. It means the words landed well. It means the voice was steady. It means the thought carried weight. But at the end of the day, these writings come from my own mind, my own experiences, my own walk with Christ. AI may shine the boots, but I’m the one doing the walking. And if you still doubt that—well, Starbucks awaits. Bring your challenge, pick the topic, and watch it flow. :)