Faithful Writers

When your brain agrees with Jesus but your feet still walk the other way “We can know what we’re supposed to do. We can want to do it. But none of that matters if we don’t actually do it.” — Brené Brown I’m not writing this because I’ve figured it out. I’m writing it because I haven’t. Because this morning I ignored a nudge to send a kind text. Because last week I snapped at someone and never said sorry. Because I know better. And I still don’t always do better. But I want to. Not to earn anything. Just to live like the person I say I am. So yeah. Knowing’s the easy part. But the doing — that’s where the rubber meets the soul. It’s like your brain is nodding yes, but your feet? They’re walking in the other direction. Am I the only one? I doubt it. But, there is hope. Happens all the time. Now, I’m not talking about some big, villainous, “destroy the world” kind of way. I mean the quiet stuff. The daily stuff. The kind of right thing that no one will notice if you don’t do it — but you’ll know. So why don’t we do it? I don’t know. Or maybe I do and I just don’t want to admit it. Sometimes I’m scared. Sometimes I’m tired. Sometimes I don’t want to deal with the fallout. Sometimes I just flat-out don’t feel like being the bigger person. It feels like too much work to be wise and kind and brave all in the same breath. It’s so much easier to scroll. Give them of piece of your mind. Or just shut down. [Just be careful how many pieces of your mind you give away. You need what you’ve got]. There’s a kind of comfort in delay, right? Like, “I’ll apologize later,” or “I’ll do that thing when I’m more rested,” or “I just need to pray about it a little longer.” Which is often code for I don’t wanna …or gonna. We get good at dressing up hesitation like it’s discernment. Knowing doesn’t cost much. Doing does. I’ve sat through enough church services to know what Jesus said about loving people, forgiving enemies, helping the least of these. That’s not the problem. I know. You know. Most of us know . But doing it? Especially when you’re smack in the middle of a political culture that’s driving at breakneck speed the other way. When should you allow it to form you. Isn’t that Paul’s instruction the Romans to not be pressed into the worlds mold? Sometimes, doing the right thing means stopping mid-argument and saying, “You’re right.” It means giving up the need to win. Or walking across the room when you’d rather stay in your little safe corner. Honestly, sometimes I think I’d rather write a ten-page essay on the ethics of forgiveness than actually forgive someone who hurt me. How about you? Now, don’t misunderstand. You can forgive and still not let the offender breathe your airspace . Restoration is a whole different ball of wax from forgiveness. So what helps? Nothing magic. Just practice. And grace. And being okay with screwing it up sometimes. In other words, I’m not saying you should ignore not doing the right thing. I’m saying to not beat yourself up over it. That will never get you closer. I also think it helps to stop waiting to feel like doing the right thing. Because that moment? It’s flaky. Some days it doesn’t come. But doing it anyway, even when the feelings lag behind, kind of begins rewires something in you . Makes it easier next time. And sometimes, honestly, I think we’ve overcomplicated obedience. We’ve spiritualized it, theologized it, overanalyzed it until it’s this giant mountain no one wants to climb . But maybe it’s just — showing up…or shutting up. Instead, using our mouths to say the humble thing. After all, isn’t that one of the Lord’s requirements? “…to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God.” (Micah 6:8) Owning your part. Letting someone else go first. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t get applause. But it’s real. Seven specifics I’ve found helpful You might want to try these on for size. 1. Make it small enough to actually do If the right thing feels big and overwhelming, your brain will do gymnastics to avoid it. Break it down. Instead of: “I need to reconcile with my brother.” Try: “I’ll text him a simple, honest check-in. No speeches. Just a start.” Small steps lower the resistance. 2. Set a simple time frame Don’t wait for “when you feel ready.” You probably won’t. Try this:“Within the next 10 minutes, I will…”Or“Before lunch, I’ll…”When the timing is vague, the action stays imaginary. 3. Visualize the outcome Seriously. It may sound to “woke,” but it helps. Picture what it’ll feel like to have done the right thing. That sense of peace. That deep breath. That weight off your chest. Your brain sometimes needs a reason to push through the discomfort. Show it what’s on the other side. 4. Lower the emotional temperature When you’re hot with emotion — angry, hurt, anxious — it’s ten times harder to act with integrity. Pause. Take a walk. Write an angry note and delete it. Breathe. Then do the thing from a clearer, calmer place. 5. Tie it to your identity Remind yourself: “I’m someone who does hard things. I’m someone who tells the truth. I’m someone who shows up, even if things have gone sideways.” When the action lines up with who you want to be, it gets easier to follow through. 6. Give yourself permission to do it badly Perfectionism is a master procrastinator. You don’t need to do it perfectly. You just need to do it honestly. Your apology doesn’t have to be poetic.Your kindness doesn’t need a filter or a hashtag. It just needs to be real. But, what if they don’t accept my apology? They might not. But they might. But, in the long run, it doesn’t matter if they accept it or not. You’ve done what’s right and that’s what matters. 7. Don’t forget your power source. Human effort isn’t enough. As Paul said, “I can do all things through Christ Who give me strength.” He also said, “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24) He then says in verse :25, “Thanks be to God by means of Jesus Christ.” In John 16, Jesus says He’s sending the Holy Spirit to be our Helper. He wants to help us with anything and everything that concerns and confronts our daily lives. © Gary L Ellis

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice!” Philippians 4:4 If you’ve ever read that verse and thought, How? How am I supposed to rejoice when my life feels like a painful, overwhelming mess? You’re not alone. I used to stumble over this all the time. For the longest time, I thought rejoicing meant forcing a smile and pretending everything was fine. I believed I had to stuff down my worries and hide my pain, because if I admitted to struggling, it meant something was wrong with me, or worse, with my relationship with God.  Along the way, I got the idea that Christians were supposed to have it all together, and if problems didn’t magically disappear, then clearly I  was the problem.  (this was reinforced many times w/in churches) But that’s not what Paul was saying here at all. Joy vs happiness. Paul isn’t commanding us to feel  happy every second of every day. Happiness is tied to circumstances. But Joy? Joy is way deeper. Joy is an anchor. It comes from knowing the Lord is near, even when the storm rages on. This is the same Paul who wrote these words while imprisoned, not on a chillax vacation or during an easy season of his life. That tells me rejoicing is not about ignoring our pain, it’s about remembering God’s presence within it. Choosing rejoicing. Rejoicing is an active choice, and it's definitely a hard one to make. It’s choosing to thank God for every breath you're taking, even when anxiety wants to tighten your throat. It’s choosing to sing praises while your face is damp and your nose is still clogged from crying. It’s choosing to trust that God’s promises are always stronger than today’s problems. Definitely not easy things to do, sometimes beyond hard, but when you can do them, even in small ways, it will shift your whole perspective. Because rejoicing reorients us. It pulls our gaze off the chaos and fixes it back on the Lord, who holds us steady. It doesn’t erase the struggle, but it reminds us that the Lord is our refuge, our fortress, and our friend. A Psalm to hold on to. “The Lord is my strength and my shield; My heart trusts in Him, and I am helped; Therefore my heart triumphs, And with my song I shall thank Him.” Psalm 28:7 So, if you’re struggling today, I want to encourage you to rejoice. It doesn’t mean that “ fake it till you make it ” crap.  It means pause, breathe, and whisper, “Lord, I know You are here.” And that whisper of faith?  That’s rejoicing. © Jane Isley Thank you for taking the time to read, and please consider  supporting my work . Your gift helps keep this work going. You can visit me at Faithful Writers  on Medium, where other Christian writers have joined me in sharing the word of God. You can also find me on   Tumblr  and   Facebook.

I like to call them “fly-over chapters”. Maybe you have heard the expression referring to some American States. “Flyover states” describe the central regions of the United States that people typically fly over when traveling between the East and West Coasts, such as between New York and Los Angeles. These states are viewed as less significant culturally or economically by coastal elites. In other words: boring. Fly-over Bible chapters are the same. We start them, see there is a genealogy, and quickly lose interest, skipping to the next chapter. The action of the Bible is compelling. It’s sexy. Digging deep into the Word to find profound spiritual truths in genealogies is not. I wonder how many Bible readers skip the first nine chapters of 1 Chronicles to get to the death of King Saul in chapter 10. How many Christians blow through the genealogy of Jesus to get to the astonishing miracles? When I was new at Bible study, I would sometimes ask, “Why is that even in there?” and skip it. Now I ask God, “ Why is that even in there? Show me.” And He does. Numbers 33 is the story of your life. It starts this way: “These are the camping sites in the journey of the People of Israel after they left Egypt, deployed militarily under the command of Moses and Aaron. Under God’s instruction, Moses kept a log of every time they moved, camp by camp:” Vs 1–2 And then the chapter goes on to list all forty-two places the Hebrews stopped in their 40-year pilgrimage. Why? It states that God instructed Moses to list them all. What does God have in mind by making sure we know about every stop in the journey of His chosen people? Nothing in the Bible is wasted. Nothing is meaningless. There must be something in Numbers 33 for us now, today. If you Google the name of each place listed, most of them don’t even exist anymore. Some Bible scholars will speculate. But there are no archaeological ruins to pinpoint exact locations. Some of the names have changed. And many stops were in desolate, nomadic regions that leave little trace. Of the forty-two locations mentioned, only five can be identified on a map. Ten to fifteen of them have a strong traditional or historical case for the location. With at least twenty, we have no idea. Ramses, Succoth, and Nebo can be visited today. Hashmonah and Tahath, not so much. The Secret Must Be in the Math. There were fourteen stops in the first year alone after leaving Egypt. And there were eight stops in the last year after Aaron’s death. They were heading to Canaan. However, for most of their 38-year lives, they made twenty different stops. Each stop was different. Each one had challenges and joys. There were new neighbors, different views, and each could be considered a fresh start. God always provided for them. There was daily manna and water. They were covered by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Their clothes didn’t wear out. They had everything they needed. Living in twenty separate places in thirty-eight years meant there were no deep roots to lay down. Although two years is a long time to stay at a place, it was still temporary. They weren’t to be established there. They were on a journey. The deep roots would come when they reached their promised land. Canaan was destined to be the place where they could have lasting rest. The other stops were a part of a narrative of their lives. Did they ever sit around a campfire, reminiscing about their time at certain stops? Some places had ample wood. Others took arduous work to keep the family going. Did an aging Grampa recount the story about giving the Amalekites a serious beat-down at Rephidim to the young kids? How did they remember the golden calf? Or try to describe the day the earth swallowed Korah and family? Could they still hear the screams in their mind? Maybe That’s What God Is Showing Us in This Fly-Over Chapter. What if it is not a list of strange places? But the story of us. What if we are on a journey to a promised place of rest and peace? And with each stop in our lives, in each chapter, we have been led there for a reason. It was beautiful, but it was temporary. God doesn’t want to read about our birth, skip to the day Jesus became real to us, and then skip again to the day we joined Him in heaven. No, those Elementary School years, the dating tears, that failed business, being Angelically saved in a car wreck, the bad, the good, the rebellion, the promotion, and the bankruptcy are all important to Him. Because they are all stops in our Exodus through this age. Each experience is necessary. Every tear is important enough to be saved. “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” Psalm 56:8 Will God Fly Over Our Story at the Judgment? Imagine the scenario as recorded by John in Revelation: “I saw the dead, both great and small, standing before God’s throne. And the books were opened, including the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to what they had done, as recorded in the books.” 20:12 Will God say: “Yeah, yeah, yeah, skip all that and cut to the good parts.” Nope! He knows the number of hairs on our head (Luke 12:7) , and all our days were planned before we were born (Psalm 39:4) . Each chapter of our lives is methodically woven into a tapestry of joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, love and loneliness, freedom and bondage, lack and abundance, stress and peace… and ALL of them are important . They are a part of our story. They are a name in a list of a chapter called “Life”. Next time you come across a scripture like Numbers 33:24, “They left Mount Shepher and camped at Haradah ,” pause for a second. Don’t just fly over it. It’s important. They left a beautiful mountain to camp at a place called “Fear” before they headed to the next beautiful mountain. I would love to know more about that stop. Because we have all had seasons in a valley of fear before we headed to the safety of the next mountain. Wherever you are camped today, it is temporary. Stand firm. Rejoice always. Endure. Appreciate. Conquer. Love fiercely. Pray. Sing. Share. Believe. Help your fellow life campers. Because where you are, what you are doing, what you see, and who you are with is temporary. And when the cloud or pillar of fire moves, it’s time to go to your next assignment. You have a long chapter left to be written. Enjoy the trip. © I.M. Koen Thank you for reading to the end. You might also enjoy: Why God Eavesdrops on You. Why Did God Choose Me? I’m Broken. Does Your God Stoop? May God sing songs of love over you as you sleep. -Issachar

Devoted Christian and passionate writer on Apologetics. Jesus saved my life—now I write to share why He matters. I hope to help others gain a deeper understanding of Christianity.  I also enjoy building websites—one of my favorites is a stamp-collecting site I created for my husband, gourmetphilatelist.org . Medium

I was once told by a psychiatric nurse that I should tell my story.  I scoffed at her, and trust me, I was very rude, but she didn’t give up on suggesting it. At that time, though, I wasn’t in any mood to consider it or anything; I was desperately just trying to survive what my body was doing to me. This all happened while I was a voluntary patient in a psychiatric ward.  Long story short, COVID did one hell of a number on me. First, it went after my heart. Landed me in the hospital for that one, and a heart monitor, because my heart rate was dropping into the lower 30s/ upper 20s at times. All I could do was lie there and think and cry. I made and sent videos to family and friends as a will for my daughter. Then it hit my kidneys. Another hospital stay, acute Kidney Injury, they told me, I think my function dropped to 23%, or 25%, can’t remember which. But I do remember signing that DNR. And finally, last but not least, rounding out to full-blown destruction of my GI tract and nervous system. I admitted myself to a psychiatric ward for that body blowout and to protect myself because I knew what I wanted to do was not right. I was hospitalized three times within four months. By the time I met this nurse, I was exhausted, burnt out, lost, and done with life. From time to time, I had thought about telling my story, but I always thought it meant sitting down and writing a book from beginning to end.  Just the thought of that and writing anything about my life at the moment was repulsive to me. Turns out I was wrong, and she saw something in me that I didn’t know was there. I’ve begun to heal countless parts of my life, body, and soul that I didn’t even realize were still injured by writing. A person’s story doesn’t need chapters or a neat beginning-to-end arc.  My story is broken up into pieces and told out of order.  Every day has a villain, and every day I wake up is part of my story arc. Now, I write.  I break my story into bits and pieces to give hope, reassurance, and encouragement that this, too, shall pass.  I break my story into bits and pieces to give hope, reassurance, and encouragement that this, too, shall pass. You are never alone. I survived what hands down should have been an un-survivable time in my life, and it wasn’t me who did that. To God: Thank you for sending her to me that day.  To the nurse I scuffed at. I’m sorry, and thank you. © Jane Isley (Revision) First published in Know Thyself, Heal Thyself , I think.

So a while back, my brain was spinning in a hamster wheel, circling the concept of the soul-body connection. It’s like I was standing on the edge of understanding something big, almost grasping it, only to have it keep blipping out. But it finally clicked, ya’ll. As I read through different verses in the Bible, I noticed how often God addresses our human nature, our tendency to be scared, carry anxiety, and worry. And how, when we let those things pile up, they don’t just weigh down our ability to think. There is also an effect on our physical bodies. The more I read, reread, and really absorbed what the Bible was saying, the more I began to see a pattern as things clicked upstairs.  What God tells us to do for our spiritual health is often exactly what we need for our emotional, mental, and physical health as well. That’s when everything started to make sense. I realized the human body and the soul aren’t separate after all. I used to believe, and was even taught, that the physical body and the soul existed apart from each other. Kinda like a jar with smoke in it, two different elements put together, but not integrating into each other. I never thought to question it.  The more I’ve reflected, the clearer it’s become: every person is a unique combination of dust and soul. That’s what makes us who we are. There isn’t just a “ physical you ” or just a “ spiritual you.”  There’s just you. One whole living, breathing being. In learning this, I’ve come to realize that my spiritual health is way more important to tackle first than my physical health. That's not me saying I don’t care, or that God doesn’t, but a sick soul leads to a sick body. When I’m struggling physically, I do pray for that, but my focus is now shifted. I pray for strength and peace in my heart. I pray that I continue to follow His lead despite what may be going on.  He cares about the physical pains, He really does, but we cannot let our body be the only thing we are praying for; we can’t allow our body to drown out the health of our soul. I hope that makes sense. “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” Proverbs 17:22 “ A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.” Proverbs 14:30 “Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Genesis 2:7 My prayer life, my relationship with God, and my physical health got better once I stepped beyond just the needs of my body and how things of this world affected me, and I prayed for the health of my soul and my relationship with God.  Once I realized that my soul needed as many band-aids, if not more than my body, was when everything fell into place. Our faith, emotions, and physical bodies are deeply intertwined.  When we nurture one, we nourish the other, too. © Jane Isley Thank you for taking the time to read, and please consider  supporting my work . Your gift helps keep this work going. You can visit me at Faithful Writers  on Medium, where other Christian writers have joined me in sharing the word of God. You can also find me on   Tumblr  and   Facebook.