Embracing the Journey

Today’s Reading: Genesis 41-43, Matthew 12

Today started as one big brain dump.

And somewhere in the middle of it, I think I realized something.

Yesterday, I wrote about Joseph and what it means to keep living the chapter you’re in when you can’t see what comes next.

Today, I found myself wondering:

But what is actually mine to carry in this chapter?

I Thought I Was Just Having a Bad Day

I kept thinking about yesterday.

Not because I expected that starting this spiritual journey meant I would never have another bad day. I know better than that.

It was more that I couldn’t quite figure out what had felt different.

Why had I gone that far down mentally?

And today, something finally clicked.

I think part of what bothered me was that I didn’t feel like I had taken a significant action step.

Especially with everything happening at work.

I worked.

I did what needed to be done.

Nothing was actually wrong.

But I didn’t do anything that felt like it moved the bigger picture forward.

And somewhere inside of me, that translated into:

You didn’t accomplish enough today.

Then almost immediately another thought came:

But isn’t that still trying to hold onto control?

Because if I’m genuinely trying to live in faith, why would I need to prove to myself every single day that I did something significant enough to influence the outcome?

That question stayed with me.

And then I moved onto my devotional.

That’s when things got interesting.

When Responsibility Becomes Something Else

The devotional was about burdens we’re carrying that the Holy Spirit may be asking us to put down.

And one of the first examples stopped me immediately.

It talked about a burden that can disguise itself as responsibility.

The belief that:

If I don’t fix this, no one will.

If I don’t hold everything together, everything will fall apart.

I need to anticipate the problem before it happens.

I need to protect everyone from disappointment.

I need to solve this.

I need to make sure everyone is okay.

Um.

Hello. 😂

The more I listened, the more I recognized myself.

And not just in this current situation.

I’ve done this in work.

I’ve done this in my family.

I’ve done this in relationships.

I’ve done this throughout my life.

Something happens and my brain immediately starts asking:

What can I do?

That’s not necessarily a bad quality.

Caring isn’t bad.

Helping isn’t bad.

Being responsible isn’t bad.

Working hard isn’t bad.

Trying to solve a problem isn’t bad.

But maybe somewhere along the way, there’s a line.

A line between being responsible and believing that everything depends on you.

And I think I have crossed that line more times than I realized.

I Don’t Have to Turn Every Concern Into an Assignment

That may be the sentence I’m carrying from today.

I don’t have to turn every concern into an assignment.

Something can concern me without becoming mine to fix.

Someone can be struggling without it becoming my responsibility to rescue them.

Something can be uncertain without requiring me to immediately develop a plan for every possible outcome.

Someone can be disappointed without me needing to make the disappointment disappear.

A problem can exist without me being the person assigned to solve it.

And wow.

Even writing that feels strange.

Because I think there has always been a part of me that equated those things with caring.

If I care, I should help.

If I can help, I should do something.

If something is broken, why wouldn’t I try to fix it?

But maybe the better question isn’t always:

What can I do?

Maybe sometimes it’s:

Is this actually mine to do?

Those are two very different questions.

Responsibility Isn’t the Same as Being Indispensable

Another point from the devotional struck me:

There is a difference between being responsible and believing we are indispensable.

That one landed.

Because the more responsibility we take on, the easier it can become to believe we need to keep taking on more.

One worry creates another.

One person needs help, so we start anticipating what else they might need.

One problem appears, so our brain starts preparing for the next five.

Before long, we aren’t just responding to life.

We’re trying to stay ten steps ahead of it.

And then we wonder why we’re exhausted.

Maybe because we’re carrying things we were never actually asked to carry.

And this is where I started thinking about obedience.

So What Does Obedience Actually Mean?

I think sometimes surrender can sound passive.

If God has control, am I supposed to just sit here and wait?

That doesn’t feel right either.

Scripture certainly doesn’t teach us to stop participating in our lives.

We are called to work.

To serve.

To help.

To love.

To act with integrity.

To use our gifts.

To care for other people.

So surrender can’t mean doing nothing.

But obedience doesn’t mean doing everything, either.

Maybe obedience is much simpler:

Do what God has actually placed in front of you, and release what He hasn’t given you to carry.

And suddenly Joseph came right back into my mind.

Joseph Didn’t Break Himself Out of Prison

Yesterday, we left Joseph in prison.

He had helped the cupbearer.

He asked to be remembered.

And the cupbearer forgot him.

Joseph couldn’t see the next chapter.

Then today I read Genesis 41.

Pharaoh has dreams that no one can interpret.

And finally, the cupbearer remembers Joseph.

Joseph is brought out of prison.

He interprets Pharaoh’s dreams.

And then everything changes.

But here’s what I noticed:

Joseph didn’t create the opportunity.

He didn’t somehow manipulate his way out of prison.

He didn’t spend every day desperately trying to force chapter 41 to happen.

The opportunity came.

And when it did?

Joseph was ready.

He stepped into it.

He used his gift.

He interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams.

He gave advice.

He planned.

He prepared Egypt for the famine.

He worked.

He took on enormous responsibility.

That distinction feels incredibly important.

Joseph didn’t do nothing because he trusted God.

But he also couldn’t force the thing that wasn’t his to control.

The door opened.

Then Joseph walked through it.

Maybe that’s obedience.

Don’t Force the Door. But When It Opens, Walk Through It.

I love that.

Because surrender isn’t sitting around waiting for life to happen to us.

And faith isn’t an excuse to avoid responsibility.

It’s learning the difference between action and control.

When something is mine to do?

Do it.

Work hard.

Show up.

Help.

Speak.

Create.

Serve.

Take the opportunity.

Walk through the door.

But when there isn’t a door?

Maybe I don’t need to exhaust myself trying to build one, kick one down, or convince myself that everything will fall apart unless I find one immediately.

Maybe sometimes the faithful thing is simply to continue doing what is already in front of me.

And wait.

Maybe That’s What Yesterday Was Trying to Teach Me

This brings me right back to yesterday.

I felt off.

And today I realized that part of the reason may have been because I didn’t feel like I had done enough to affect the bigger picture.

There wasn’t some huge action step.

There wasn’t something I could point to and say:

There. I moved this forward today.

And maybe I need to learn that there will be days like that.

Days where obedience looks like action.

And days where obedience looks like continuing to do the ordinary things already in front of me.

Maybe even days where obedience looks like resting.

Not every day needs a breakthrough.

Not every concern requires an action plan.

Not every quiet day means nothing is happening.

And not being able to see movement doesn’t mean there isn’t movement.

Joseph was still in prison right before everything changed.

He didn’t know chapter 41 was coming.

What Are You Carrying?

And maybe this isn’t just something I needed today.

Maybe someone reading this needs it too.

Maybe you’re the person everyone calls when something goes wrong.

Maybe you’re trying to hold your family together.

Maybe you’re carrying your children.

Your relationship.

Your job.

Your finances.

Someone else’s choices.

Someone else’s recovery.

Someone else’s happiness.

Maybe your brain never completely shuts off because you’re constantly anticipating the next thing that could go wrong.

And maybe you’ve called all of that being responsible.

So here’s the question I’m asking myself now, too:

Did God actually give you all of that to carry?

Because caring about someone doesn’t mean becoming responsible for every outcome in their life.

Loving someone doesn’t mean saving them.

Being a good employee doesn’t mean the future of an entire organization rests on your shoulders.

Being a good parent doesn’t mean preventing your children from ever experiencing pain or disappointment.

Being responsible doesn’t mean becoming indispensable.

We can care deeply without carrying everything.

The Bigger Picture

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks noticing how much has already changed in the way I’m thinking.

And I’m proud of that.

Not because I suddenly have everything figured out.

Clearly, I don’t. 😂

But because I’m recognizing things faster.

I’m questioning thoughts I might once have automatically believed.

I’m seeing patterns.

I’m connecting Scripture to everyday life differently.

And the more I read, pray, notice, and practice these things, the more natural some of it is beginning to feel.

That’s something I’ve been thinking about throughout this entire journey.

The Bible isn’t just something we’re supposed to read so we can say we’ve read it.

It’s guidance for how to live.

And maybe transformation doesn’t happen because we read one verse and suddenly become different people.

Maybe it happens slowly.

We read.

We notice.

We practice.

We mess up.

We recognize it.

We try again.

And over time, something changes.

What once required enormous effort begins to come more naturally.

What once took us days to recognize, we catch in an hour.

What once sent us spiraling, we learn to interrupt.

What once felt like our responsibility, we finally learn to put down.

With time comes growth.

Maybe that’s part of what a lifetime of faith is supposed to look like.

Lord, Take Control

And somehow, once again, I find myself back at the words that started my relationship with God all those years ago:

Lord, Take Control.

But maybe those words continue growing with me too.

At one point they meant:

I can’t do this alone.

Then:

I don’t know what’s coming, but I trust You.

And today they feel a little different again:

Show me what’s mine to do.

Give me the courage to do it.

And help me put down everything that was never mine to carry.

Because maybe surrender isn’t giving up responsibility.

Maybe it’s finally putting responsibility back where it belongs.

I’ll do my part.

God can handle the rest.

Questions I’m Leaving With

Am I being responsible, or have I started believing everything depends on me?

Do I automatically turn every concern into something I need to fix?

What am I carrying because God actually placed it in front of me – and what did I pick up myself?

When there is something for me to do, am I willing to act?

And when there isn’t, can I trust God enough to wait?

Today’s Takeaway

You don’t have to fix everything you care about.

You don’t have to anticipate every problem.

You don’t have to make something significant happen every single day.

Do what’s yours to do.

Release what isn’t.

Don’t force the door.

But when it opens, walk through it.

And when you find yourself trying to carry all of it again:

Lord, Take Control.

Until next time… keep noticing.