I’ve heard how some people describe their Christian life as one of perfect peace, but what I know most about is the uncomfortable (and sometimes painful) process of learning to walk rightly.
God doesn’t panic
I grew up thinking that whenever my life unraveled into a big mess on the floor, God was pacing around the ceiling in anxiety mode trying to formulate a plan B.
One thing I’ve learned about Him over the years is that His sovereignty means He is never surprised or threatened by my hopeless circumstances.
My peace doesn’t come from trying to conjure it up; it’s born from recognizing that the One in charge isn’t bothered by the intricacies. And I can find rest knowing He has everything under control.
Healing over fixing
For years, I tried everything I could to fix a situation.
Whether it was a broken relationship or gripping the steering wheel too hard while powering through a sin issue, I would white-knuckle my way through until the cracks started to show again.
What I’ve learned is God is usually not about the superficial fix that makes my life look alright on the outside. He desires to heal me, and healing is different than fixing.
Fixing meant plastering over my cracks, but healing means changing my structure. And healing frequently means you won’t ever quite look the same way again.
Silent growth seasons
There have been times in my life where the heavens turned to brass above me and I felt like I couldn’t hear God whisper one ounce of direction no matter how hard I prayed.
These quiet times, I’ve found, usually aren’t about God abandoning me mid-sentence, but more about letting the lessons He’s already imparted sink in.
Like a teacher silently walking the room while students take a test, these stretches of silence have taught me to operate on what I know to be true.
Boundaries in love
This one was tough for me. I learned that just because I love someone, pray for them, and serve them, I don’t have to own their personal decisions.
I would exhaust myself because I thought I was a failure if my friend didn’t get better or walked away from Jesus.
When I understood that I am only responsible for my own choices and not how someone else’s story ends, I experienced a great sense of spiritual relief.
Beyond human eyes
We live in such a looks-driven culture. One thing I did to break that bondage was literally closing my eyes when we worship.
For me, shutting my eyes is a tangible way to block out everything else going on in the room and the people trying to size me up so that I can focus on God.
Simple? Yes. Life-changing? Absolutely. It didn’t just help me worship, but it taught me how to live life without constantly seeking approval from man.
Secret keeper strength
There have been times when I wanted to share “Please pray for Sarah. Her marriage is crumbling,” even when really, that wasn’t my story to tell.
Over time, I’ve come to see that faithfulness sometimes involves guarding others’ private hardships.
Sometimes sharing who I am or defending myself could damage someone else.
I’ve come to understand that true power is in choosing silence at the right moments.
Staying put takes faith too
I’ve sat through countless sermons about faith steps and stepping out for God.
But sometimes faithfulness looked like staying put during difficult seasons rather than walking away.
I’ve wanted to quit jobs that were hard or walk away from responsibilities that seemed pointless because I was thinking, “God, isn’t there something more I should be doing?”
Wisdom, I’ve realized, isn’t always about taking a leap of faith. Sometimes wisdom looks like staying quietly and faithfully where you are.
Real before God
I spent years pretending like every aspect of my life was blessed when I was around other church folk.
Then I discovered God wasn’t afraid of my anger, my doubts, or my tough questions. What God truly desired was my honesty, not a pretense of everything being perfect.
Hiding my pain behind pious phrases only left me feeling trapped and exhausted.
Learning to be honest about my situations made me not a weak Christian, but one that others could relate to and feel comfortable around.
Years not moments
We live in a microwave society. I’ve learned that spiritual fruit in people’s lives takes seasons.
I have discipled teenagers for 10 years and saw zero fruit until years later when they mentioned that a conversation we had long ago was the catalyst for their transformation.
True faithfulness, to me, means consistently being present and contributing, even when there aren’t immediate, visible triumphs to acknowledge.
Hidden daily battles
“When life doesn’t feel glamorous, that’s when God is most gracious.” I heard this phrase recently and it really resonated with me.
I’ve come to realize that much of my Christian walk isn’t about being in the spotlight. It’s spent in how I respond to that rude driver, or how I treat my kid when I have a headache on a Tuesday afternoon.
Those everyday moments mold me and shape me into the man of Christ that I will one day become.
Slow heart healing
You can forgive someone and still feel wronged later on. You may even see their name pop up on your phone and flashback to all that hurt.
I’m learning that sometimes healing is a process. You have to consciously make peace with the situation over and over when anger tries to rise up.
Slowly but surely, that hurt diminishes and you wake up one day and realize your heart feels whole again.
