4-5 minute read
Prefer to watch or listen? Watch Episode 28 on YouTube or listen on Spotify.
Three months ago, I started working on a podcast episode about a devotional I couldn't finish.
At the time, I thought I had discovered an important lesson. I didn't realize I was about to spend the next three months living it.
My new job became demanding. Family life needed more from me. Even my time with God changed.
And somewhere along the way, I began questioning what faithfulness was supposed to look like.
My Life Changed. My Expectations Didn't.
Years ago, when Rachel and I had only our oldest daughter, my mornings had a rhythm.
I could wake up, read Scripture, pray, journal, exercise, and start my day. Life wasn't perfect, but there was a predictability I appreciated.
Then came twins. Then triplets.
Today, we have six children. Our mornings involve breakfast, diapers, questions, noise, and plenty of unexpected interruptions.
But I kept trying to recreate the mornings I used to have.
My life had changed, but my expectations hadn't.
I was measuring faithfulness today against routines that belonged to another season.
When Every Good Choice Feels Like the Wrong One
Three things make a significant difference in my life: sleep, exercise, and time with God.
I tried putting my devotional first, but then I felt guilty about missing exercise.
So I exercised first and listened to Scripture during my workout. That helped, but I still wondered whether I was giving God enough attention.
And if I managed both, there was probably something else I should have been doing for my family.
It felt like wherever I stood, I should have been somewhere else.
Guilt just kept moving.
The difficult part was that these weren't choices between good and bad. They were choices between good things.
The Devotional I Couldn't Finish
One morning, I had exercised, listened to Scripture, and was almost finished with my devotional when my oldest daughter told me she was starving.
I went upstairs for a quick shower. When I returned, she had started making eggs.
I was proud of her initiative.
Then the other children realized breakfast was happening.
Suddenly, everyone needed something. Bread, milk, plates, diaper changes. Questions came from every direction.
The kitchen became a wall of noise.
I love my children. We prayed for years to have them. Yet there I was, frustrated because the very children God had given me were interrupting my morning.
My first instinct was to fix the schedule.
Maybe I needed to wake up earlier or rearrange everything.
But eventually, I recognized something deeper.
I was grieving the season I used to have.
The quiet. The predictability. The feeling of control.
And no amount of scheduling could bring that season back.
What Does Faithfulness Look Like Now?
For years, I had been asking myself, "How do I get back?"
Back to my routine. Back to the quiet. Back to the version of myself who seemed to have things figured out.
Maybe I was asking the wrong question.
What does faithfulness look like now?
Not five years ago. Not before twins or triplets.
Now.
Maybe instead of waiting for life to become quiet enough to meet with God, I needed to recognize that He was already present in the middle of it.
An interrupted devotional isn't necessarily a failed devotional.
Sometimes prayer happens while washing dishes. Sometimes Scripture is heard during a workout. Sometimes all I can manage is, "Lord, I need You."
I'm not suggesting spiritual disciplines don't matter. I'm learning that they don't always have to look the way they once did.
And perhaps faithfulness includes recognizing when we're tired and need rest rather than another task to complete.
Jesus reminds us in Matthew 11:28 that those who are weary and burdened can come to Him for rest.
Not everything needs to be finished before we can receive it.
These May Be the Good Days Too
My phone occasionally shows me pictures from years ago.
I'll see my oldest daughter when she was five and think, "Those were the good old days."
But I remember being stressed then, too.
Some of the seasons I miss today are the same ones I struggled to appreciate while living them.
Five years from now, I may look at pictures of our triplets at two, our twins at five, and our oldest at ten.
I might wish I could return to one of these mornings.
Even the loud ones.
Even the morning when I couldn't finish my devotional.
So one of my simplest prayers has become:
God, open my eyes so I can see how blessed I am. Not someday. Now.
Maybe your life looks different from what it once did, too.
Instead of asking how to get back, perhaps we can ask:
What does faithfulness look like in the life God has placed in front of me today?
And perhaps these are the good days, too.
*This article was adapted from Episode 28 of the Ordinary Heroes Podcast, “The Devotional I Couldn't Finish.”
