Yesterday morning, the alarm blared at 5:15 a.m., shattering the warmth of sleep and pulling me into the dim, early hours. I reached for my phone, squinting at the screen to check the temperature outside. Subzero. The kind of cold that stings your skin before you even step out the door and seeps in around your windows. My body craves hibernation, which I feel should be legal during winter months. Hibernation. A political agenda I can get behind. But, not today because meetings loomed on the horizon, and I needed to start on my morning routine.
I began my five steps, the familiar rhythm of my morning prayer, and once again, I poured out my troubles to God. The same burdens, the same worries—repeated so often that He must be tired of hearing them by now. I’m overwhelmed. I’m exhausted. My to-do list feels endless. I just want to stay in bed. But time doesn’t pause for fatigue. Whether I rise or not, the day will unfold, pressing forward with or without me. But just once, I wished He would stop time for a few hours while I hibernated.
As He always does, He reminded me that my day isn’t defined by checklists, deadlines, or the weight of my responsibilities. It’s not about how much I accomplish or how productive I appear. Each day is a gift, an opportunity to extend love, to lean on Him, and to deepen my faith. While my mind fixates on upcoming meetings and pressing tasks, He shifts my perspective. The most meaningful moments aren’t found in the structured agenda of my day. Instead, they exist in the quiet, unplanned spaces—when I pause to listen, when I offer kindness, when I allow my faith to stretch and grow in the simple, ordinary interactions that He places before me.
Each day carries a weight of significance that extends beyond the superficial busyness of meetings and appointments. I find myself questioning how to permanently imprint this truth into my everyday thoughts. Amid the constant pull of immediacy, how can I consistently center my attention on what truly matters instead of being swept away by what is urgent?
1. Stay rooted in the present moment. The mind prefers to race ahead, tangled in worries about the future. When it is not racing ahead, it will drift backward, lost in shame or regret. It clings to distractions, weaving an illusion of control. And let me tell you, I love some control, almost as much as I love Cheetos. But, what good does it actually do? Dissecting what was or obsessing over what could be does nothing to shape the current reality. But the present? The here and now? It unfolds freely, unpredictable and uncontainable. And what the mind cannot control, it often dismisses—overlooking the beauty, the clarity, and the quiet power found in simply being.
If we really think about it, the only moment that truly matters is the present moment.
God taught me this lesson in a way I would never forget during my marathon training a decade ago. My routine was a structured run/walk cycle—I would run for 75% of the time and walk for 25%, conditioning my body to endure the grueling distances. But as you can imagine, marathon training was exhausting. The fatigue settled deep into my muscles, pressing down on me with every step.
I quickly realized something: I didn’t have the luxury of letting my mind wander ahead to the miles still waiting for me. I was too drained to think about the next hill, the next stretch, or even the next running interval. All I could do was focus on the moment I was in—one step, one breath at a time. And in that focus, I uncovered something powerful. When I stayed present, when I kept my mind anchored to the rhythm of my current run or walk, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared. I wasn’t as exhausted as I had convinced myself I was. The real battle wasn’t my physical fatigue, it was my mind’s tendency to dread what was coming next.
The moment—the very second—my thoughts drifted ahead to the next interval, the next incline, the miles still stretching out before me, a wave of overwhelm hit me like a wall. I wanted to quit. The task seemed impossible. But I learned that if I disciplined my mind to stay present, to take each moment as it came, I could keep going. And step by step, I did.
The same struggle plays out in my daily life. The moment my thoughts race ahead, toward the next appointment, the endless to-do list, the looming financial goals, or even the plans for the weekend—I can feel the weight of it all pressing down on me. It doesn’t take much for the overwhelm to creep in, making even the simplest tasks feel daunting. The pressure builds, heavy and relentless, until I find myself once again asking God, please stop time, just for a little while. But time marches on, and I am left with a choice: drown in the weight of what’s ahead or anchor myself in the only place I truly have—the present moment and a Savior who promises to never leave my side.
2. Ground yourself in your purpose. Pause and ask, "Does this activity align with God's calling for my life?" Without a clear sense of purpose, decisions become unsteady, dictated by shifting circumstances, external pressures, and fleeting emotions. But when your purpose is firmly rooted in God’s plan, it becomes the foundation for how you spend your time, invest your resources, and navigate each choice with intention and clarity. If an activity doesn't align with your purpose, it carries less importance and needs to be given appropriate attention, not excessive attention.
God’s calling for your life isn’t always a rigid path you must decipher like a puzzle or a hidden mystery waiting to be solved. Instead, His calling is rooted in something constant and unchanging. At its core, we are all called to love. We are called to forgive. We are called to care for others with compassion and grace. We are called to stand for what's right and be set apart from the rest of the world. The ways in which we fulfill this calling may differ—our gifts and talents shaping how we serve—but one truth remains steadfast: God’s purpose always revolves around love, peace and righteousness. Anything that pulls us away from these foundational principles leads us away from Him, because these are the very essence of His nature.
Daniel in the old testament understood his purpose with unwavering clarity. As he grew older, his wisdom and integrity elevated him to positions of great authority under multiple rulers. Yet, when a royal decree forbade prayer to anyone but the king, Daniel did not waver. He remained steadfast, kneeling in prayer three times a day, fully aware of the deadly consequences.
This was no small sacrifice. He wasn’t merely risking disgrace or imprisonment; he was facing the terrifying reality of being thrown into a den of ravenous lions. Choosing the easy path was well within his grasp. He could have obeyed the king, secured his power, and lived a life of comfort. But Daniel refused. He knew his purpose was not about personal success, wealth, or influence. His loyalty belonged to God alone, and no earthly decree could shake that devotion.
We could use a few more Daniels in the world today.
Walk the path of purpose one step at a time, trusting God to illuminate the way in small, steady increments. Rather than striving to change the world in a single day, focus on what He has placed before you, faithfully tending to the work at hand. Never allow your tasks to overshadow the One you serve, or define the purpose in your life. Martha, in her busyness, lost sight of the true purpose of the meal—it was meant to honor Jesus, not herself. Likewise, our work is not meant to glorify us but to bring honor to God. When we keep our eyes on Him, our efforts become acts of worship in line with our purpose rather than mere accomplishments.
3. Surrender to God. Aren’t we all works in progress, continually growing in faith? True faith is more than just belief. It’s the deep conviction that what God has promised will come to pass, even when we cannot yet see it. Faithful people are surrendered people. They choose obedience, even when life’s demands press in on them from every side.
You know you’ve truly surrendered when you trust God to work things out instead of grasping for control—manipulating others, forcing your own plans, or struggling to orchestrate every detail. Surrender is releasing your grip, stepping back, and allowing God to move in His perfect timing. It’s realizing that you don’t always have to be in charge, because He already is. When you let go and let God work, you walk in the freedom of faith, knowing that His plans far exceed anything you could arrange on your own.
Surrender is not a passive act. It is a battle, a fierce struggle against the deeply ingrained desires of our self-centered nature. It demands that we lay down our need for control, our impulse to defend ourselves, and our urgency to dictate the timing of our lives. You know you have truly surrendered when criticism no longer rattles you, when you feel no need to rush to your own defense, and when you find peace in God’s perfect timing rather than your own hurried expectations. Anything that vies for dominance in your heart, anything that steals your focus from Him, stands in direct opposition to a life fully surrendered. To yield to God is to loosen your grip on everything else, trusting that His way is not only better—but the only way to true freedom.
If a fully surrendered life feels like a distant goal, you’re not alone. We’re all on this journey together. But take heart, because even the smallest seed of faith has the potential to grow into something strong and unshakable. Surrender isn’t an instant transformation; it unfolds gradually, one small act of trust at a time. Each step, no matter how small, draws you closer to a deeper reliance on God, shaping your faith into something steadfast and unwavering.
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