Embracing the Journey

Today’s Reading: Leviticus 8–11

This morning, I woke up feeling the same hope I have been feeling lately.

The circumstances have not changed.

The uncertainty is still there.

Yet so are the joy, gratitude, and peace.

A month ago, I probably would have been suspicious of that.

How can you possibly feel peaceful when you still do not know what happens next?

Now, instead of questioning the peace, I am paying attention to it.

And today another thought kept coming back:

What if someone else tried this too?

Not because I think everyone should think exactly like I do.

Not because I have discovered some secret formula.

But because a little more than thirty days ago, I decided to start reading Scripture consistently, paying attention to what stirred in me, and writing down what I noticed.

I really did not know what would happen.

Now I cannot stop wondering:

What might someone else notice after 30 days of faith, reflection, and intentionally paying attention too?

I Did Not Start With a Transformation Plan

When I began this, I did not create some elaborate spiritual growth program.

There was no checklist of everything I planned to fix about myself.

Honestly, I just wanted to read the Bible for myself.

Then I started noticing.

One passage connected to something happening in my life.

Another made me question an old pattern.

Eventually, I started recognizing fear sooner.

Then came surrender.

Boundaries.

Rest.

Integrity.

Mercy.

Knowing what is mine to carry.

Learning how to return when I get something wrong.

None of those lessons appeared because I decided on Day One that I would master them.

They emerged as I kept showing up.

That is why I keep wondering what could happen if someone else simply started there too.

What If You Treated It Like an Experiment?

Maybe 30 days of faith sounds intimidating.

So forget the pressure for a second.

What if you approached it with curiosity instead?

Read something every day.

Then notice.

What stirred something in you?

Which sentence made you uncomfortable?

What brought peace?

Where did your mind immediately argue?

Did something remind you of a situation you are facing?

From there:

Notice. Check. Choose.

And do it with grace, not pressure.

You are not trying to become a perfect person in thirty days.

You are paying attention.

Notice

Start with what is actually happening inside you.

Fear?

Anger?

Resentment?

Hope?

Peace?

Jealousy?

Gratitude?

An urge to control something?

The point is not to judge yourself for what appears.

Simply notice it.

Because it is incredibly difficult to change something you never realize is happening.

Check

Once you notice the thought or feeling, examine it.

Does this line up with what I am learning about God?

What is this producing in me?

Is this actually mine to carry?

Am I acting with integrity?

Does something here need to change?

Sometimes the answer will be uncomfortable.

Other times, you may realize you have been carrying something that never belonged to you.

Either way, the check creates space.

Choose

Then decide what comes next.

Maybe you need to apologize.

Perhaps you need to stop.

You might need to set a boundary.

Sometimes the next step is simply refusing to follow a fearful thought any further.

And occasionally, the answer may be:

There is nothing else for me to do here. I need to surrender the rest.

That choice does not have to be enormous.

Just choose the next right thing.

Then tomorrow, do it again.

You Might Notice Something Quickly

I do not want to tell anyone:

Do this for thirty days and your entire life will change.

I cannot promise that.

Some people may feel something immediately.

Others may not.

Different people will probably notice different things because we are all carrying different things.

But that is almost the point.

Notice for yourself.

Maybe your reactions start changing.

Perhaps your boundaries become clearer.

You could notice more peace.

Someone else may finally recognize resentment they have been carrying.

Another person might realize fear has been making decisions for them.

The invitation is not:

Get the result I got.

It is:

Pay attention to what begins changing in you.

Check In With Your Faith Before Fear Takes Over

Yesterday, something from my devotional stayed with me about consistently examining the state of my faith.

This morning, I realized why that has become so important to me.

Checking in with my faith helps me catch fear before fear quietly starts running my life.

That is incredibly freeing.

Because fear rarely announces itself as:

Hello. I am about to take over your thoughts for the next six hours.

Mine usually sounds much more reasonable.

What if this goes wrong?

Shouldn’t you be doing more?

What will people think?

Are you sure you aren’t fooling yourself?

One thought can become ten before I realize what happened.

But now there is an interruption.

Wait.

What am I believing right now?

Does it align with what I know about God?

Is this producing wisdom or panic?

What is actually mine to do?

That check gives me a choice before fear becomes the driver.

Then I Read This Morning’s Devotional

Today’s devotional was called “The Helper.”

And once again, the timing got me.

It opened by encouraging the reader to spend time in God’s Word and ask for wisdom and insight.

Then it talked about the Holy Spirit helping us understand, guiding both large and small decisions, and reminding us of what God has taught.

The Scripture at the bottom was John 14:26, where Jesus describes the Holy Spirit as the Helper who teaches and reminds.

I sat there feeling emotional all over again.

Because this is what the last month has felt like to me.

I read.

Something stands out.

Then later, when life happens, that lesson comes back.

A thought gets checked.

A response changes.

Eventually, something I once only read becomes something I actually use.

And once again, it felt like a quiet:

Keep going.

Maybe God Did Not Suddenly Become Louder

This thought has been growing in me:

What if God did not suddenly start speaking more clearly? What if I finally started paying closer attention?

I have heard Scripture throughout my life.

The words were there.

The lessons were there.

But showing up daily has changed the way I receive them.

Instead of hearing something once and moving on, I am watching for how it connects to real life.

Then I test it.

Practice it.

Return to it.

That repetition is doing something.

Today’s Reading Brought Me Back to the Instructions

Then I read Leviticus 8–11.

Once again:

Details.

Instructions.

Specific responsibilities.

God had given clear directions for worship, sacrifice, priesthood, and daily life.

And in Leviticus 10, the seriousness of those instructions becomes impossible to miss when Nadab and Abihu offer something God had not commanded.

The consequences were severe.

I do not read that and think:

Be terrified that one mistake means God is waiting to destroy you.

Especially after everything I have already noticed about mercy, restoration, and the ways God made provision for human failure.

Instead, I notice something that keeps appearing:

What God asks matters.

His instructions are not decorative.

They are meant to shape how people live.

There Is a Difference Between Struggling and Ignoring

That distinction feels important.

The previous chapters showed people making mistakes, including unintentional ones, and receiving instructions for what came next.

There was a way to acknowledge wrongdoing and return.

Today’s reading also reminded me that deliberately treating God’s instructions as meaningless is something different.

Together, those ideas show me more of God’s character.

Grace matters.

So does obedience.

Mercy does not make guidance meaningless.

And instruction does not erase mercy.

Both can exist together.

The Instructions Are Meant to Become a Life

I think that may be what I have been discovering without realizing it.

Reading Scripture is not supposed to end with:

Interesting.

The point is not collecting Bible facts.

The Word is meant to shape something.

How I speak.

How I react.

What I carry.

What I release.

How I treat people.

What I do when I get something wrong.

The choices I make when nobody agrees with me.

The way I respond when fear enters.

The more I practice those things, the more natural some of them become.

And that is where the freedom has started appearing.

Imagine If More of Us Tried This

This is the thought that really excited me today.

What if more people simply tried?

Not because I told them what they should believe.

Not because someone pressured them.

Just:

What if more people got curious enough to read, reflect, and notice for themselves?

Especially right now.

The world feels incredibly loud.

There is war.

Fear about technology.

Fear about jobs.

Constant news.

Constant opinions.

Constant predictions about what we should be afraid of next.

Even without choosing sides, the volume can be exhausting.

So what if more of us started asking a different set of questions?

What Is All This Noise Producing in Us?

Are we becoming kinder?

More patient?

More honest?

More merciful?

More willing to help each other?

More peaceful?

Or are we becoming increasingly afraid?

Reactive?

Suspicious?

Angry?

Exhausted?

That seems worth examining.

Because whatever we repeatedly consume and believe eventually affects how we live.

And lately, I have been experiencing what happens when I deliberately make God’s Word louder than some of the other voices competing for my attention.

Maybe Change Starts Smaller Than We Think

I would love to see more peace in the world.

More kindness.

More grace.

Less fear driving every conversation.

But huge change can feel impossible.

So maybe it does not start huge.

Perhaps it starts with one person.

One person notices fear before reacting.

Another chooses mercy instead of resentment.

Someone stops carrying what was never theirs.

A person admits they were wrong and returns.

Another decides not to participate in cruelty simply because everyone else is.

Little changes.

Individual choices.

Repeated daily.

Maybe that is how something bigger begins.

Fear Used to Stop Me From Saying This

There is another layer to all of this.

I have felt passionate about helping people before.

My experiences with substance use and recovery shaped so much of what I eventually wanted to give back to others.

When you live through something and discover that change is possible, you want other people to know that possibility exists too.

I think something similar is beginning to happen here.

I keep thinking:

What if someone else could find some of this peace too?

In the past, fear probably would have stopped me there.

Who are you to say anything?

What will people think?

What if someone judges you?

That fear still occasionally shows up.

But now I know what to do with it.

I Can Check This Too

Am I trying to force anyone?

No.

Am I claiming I have every answer?

Definitely not.

Do I want people to become kinder, more peaceful, more hopeful, and less controlled by fear?

Yes.

Does encouraging someone to read Scripture and think for themselves align with what I believe is good?

Yes.

Then I can continue.

Someone else’s reaction is not automatically mine to carry.

That lesson applies here too.

And realizing that makes me smile because I am literally using the same practice that I am writing about.

You Do Not Have to Take My Word for It

Maybe that is what I want most from this entry.

I do not need you to believe this because I wrote it.

I would rather make you curious.

What if you tried it?

Not forever.

Not with some enormous commitment.

Just start.

Read.

Notice.

Ask questions.

Pay attention to your reactions.

Check what you are carrying.

Look at what fear is producing.

Notice what happens when you choose something different.

Then come back tomorrow.

You do not have to take my word for it. Notice for yourself.

Thirty Days From Now, Look Back

Maybe something dramatic happens.

Perhaps nothing dramatic happens at all.

But look carefully.

Do you respond differently?

Are you noticing your thoughts sooner?

Has anything become easier to surrender?

Do you recognize fear faster?

Are you treating anyone differently?

What are you learning about yourself?

What have you learned about God?

And perhaps most importantly:

Who are you becoming?

That is the experiment.

Not:

Did everything I wanted happen?

But:

What changed in me while I kept showing up?

Questions I’m Leaving With

What voices have been the loudest in my life lately?

What are those voices producing in me?

Do I spend more time feeding fear or feeding faith?

What might I notice if I intentionally read Scripture every day for thirty days?

Can I approach faith with curiosity instead of pressure?

What happens when I stop judging every thought and simply notice it first?

Which part of Notice → Check → Choose would help me most right now?

Am I willing to examine my faith as consistently as I examine everything that might go wrong?

What would change if I became a little less afraid and a little more loving?

And thirty days from now, who might I be becoming?

Today’s Takeaway

You do not need a perfect plan to begin.

You do not need to understand the entire Bible first.

There is no requirement that you suddenly feel deeply spiritual.

Start where you are.

Read Something

Open Scripture.

Read a chapter.

Use a reading plan.

Start somewhere.

Then pay attention.

You do not have to understand every sentence before something can begin working on you.

Notice What Happens Inside You

Which part catches your attention?

What makes you curious?

Does something bother you?

Bring comfort?

Challenge an old belief?

Write it down.

Do not rush to manufacture a lesson.

Simply notice.

Check What You Are Carrying

When life happens later, pause.

What am I feeling?

Where is this thought taking me?

Does this align with what I have been learning?

Is this mine to carry?

What would the next right thing look like here?

Those questions create space between the thought and the reaction.

And sometimes, that space is where everything begins changing.

Choose With Grace, Not Pressure

You will not do this perfectly.

That is not the point.

Choose the next right thing you can see.

If you get it wrong, notice.

Make it right where you can.

Then return.

Tomorrow is another opportunity to practice.

Pay Attention to What Changes

Do not only look for dramatic answers.

Notice the quieter changes too.

A reaction that did not last as long.

A worry you released sooner.

A boundary you finally recognized.

A moment when you chose kindness.

A situation where fear appeared but did not get to make the decision.

That counts.

Growth often becomes obvious only after you turn around and realize you are no longer responding the way you used to.

Just Try It

Thirty days.

Read.

Notice.

Check.

Choose.

Pray.

Return.

And since October 1 is only a few days away, maybe that is as good a time as any to begin.

I am going to have a few people close to me try it too.

We will each go through the same 30 days in our own way, pay attention to what changes, and document what we notice along the way.

Then, at the end, I want to come back and share what each of us experienced.

Not because I expect all of us to have the same result.

Actually, I am curious to see how different the experience may be for each person.

So if you have been wondering whether any of this could make a difference for you too, maybe start with us.

October 1. Thirty days. Just notice.