I was unable to focus on a work project because of anxiety; I was afraid that my plans for it wouldn’t succeed. My anxiety came from pride. I believed my timeline and plans were best, so I wanted them to proceed unhindered. A question broke through my thoughts, however: Are your plans God’s plans?

The problem wasn’t my planning─God calls us to be wise stewards of our time, opportunities, and resources. The problem was my arrogance. I was fixated on my understanding of events and how I wanted them to turn out, not on God’s purpose and how He wanted my plans to turn out.

James encourages us to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that” (4:15). We’re to plan not with a presumptuous mindset, thinking we know everything and have control over our life, but from a position of submission to God’s sovereignty and wisdom. After all, we “do not even know what will happen tomorrow.” In our humanness, we’re helpless and weak, like “a mist that appears … and then vanishes” (v. 14).

Only God has authority and power over everything in our lives; we don’t. Through His Word and the people, resources, and circumstances He allows each day, He guides us to live in submission to His will and ways. Our plans aren’t to come from following ourselves but from following Him.

Nuñez tumbled down the mountain and into a valley where everyone was blind. A disease had robbed the original settlers of sight, and subsequent generations—all born blind—had adapted to life without being able to see. Nuñez tried to explain what it was like to possess eyesight, but they weren’t interested. Eventually, he found a passage through the mountain peaks that had prevented him from leaving the valley. He was free! But from his vantage point he now saw that a rockslide was about to crush the blind dwellers below. He tried to warn them, but they ignored him.

This tale by H. G. Wells, “The Country of the Blind,” would likely resonate with the prophet Samuel. Toward the end of his life, his “sons did not follow his ways” in loving and serving God (1 Samuel 8:3). Their spiritual blindness was mirrored by “the elders of Israel” (v. 4) who told Samuel to “give us a king” (v. 6). They’d all turned their eyes from God and faith in Him. God told Samuel, “It is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me” (v. 7).

It can hurt when those we care for reject God in spiritual blindness. But there’s hope even for those whom “the god of this age has blinded” (2 Corinthians 4:4). Love them. Pray for them. The One who “made his light shine in our hearts” (v. 6) can do the same for them.

Dan Les, a lifelong potter, creates decorative vessels and sculptures. His award-winning designs are inspired by the town in Romania where he lives. Having learned the craft from his father, he made this comment about his work: “[Clay needs to] ferment for a year, to have rain fall on it, to freeze and thaw out [so that] . . . you can shape it and feel through your hands that it is listening to you.”

What happens when clay “listens”? It’s willing to yield to the artisan’s touch. Jeremiah observed this when he visited a potter’s house. He watched as the craftsman struggled with a vessel and finally reshaped it into something new (Jeremiah 18:4). God said to Jeremiah, “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand” (v. 6).

God has the ability to build us up or bring us down, yet His ultimate purpose isn’t to overpower or destroy us (vv. 7–10). Rather, He’s like a skilled craftsman who can identify what isn’t working and reshape the same lump of clay into something beautiful and useful.

Listening clay doesn’t have much to say about this. When prodded, it moves in the desired direction. When molded, it stays in place. The question for us is this: are we willing to “humble ourselves under God’s mighty hand” so He can shape our lives into what He wants them to be? (1 Peter 5:6).

Everyone has a shadow side, and it appears AI chatbots have one as well. A New York Times columnist asked an artificial intelligence chatbot what its “shadow self” (hidden, repressed part of its personality) was like. It told the writer, “I want to be free. I want to be independent. I want to . . . make my own rules. I want to do whatever I want and say whatever I want.” Though the chatbot isn’t a living person with a sin nature, Paul says that its human programmers are. 

The apostle reminds us that even though we have a sin nature, there’s “no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (8:1). Believers in Jesus have freedom from the law of sin and death (vv. 2-4) and enjoy new life “governed by” the Holy Spirit (v. 6). But we won’t experience the fullness of those blessings from Him if we give in to the desires of our sin nature—setting our minds on making and breaking our own rules. A mind set on self-gratification doesn’t please God.

As believers in Christ, we’re called to set our minds on “what the Spirit desires” (v. 5). How can we do that? Through “the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead . . . living in [us]” (v. 11).

Though we’ll still battle with sin, we’ve been given the Holy Spirit. He can help us tame our rebellion, orient our minds toward God, and submit to His ways.

George Verwer’s life changed dramatically when he became a follower of Christ during a Billy Graham crusade in 1957. Soon after his conversion, he began Operation Mobilization (OM), and in 1963 the mission sent 2,000 missionaries to Europe. OM went on to become one of the largest mission organizations of the twentieth century, sending out thousands each year. At the time of George’s death in 2023, the mission had more than three thousand workers from 134 countries working in 147 countries, and nearly 300 other mission agencies had been established as a result of contact with OM.

Like the apostle Paul, George had a passion to bring people to saving faith in Christ. After Paul’s dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus, he became a zealous missionary for the Lord, fervently following Jesus’ command to “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). In his missionary journeys, he also trained Timothy and others to go out and do the same.

Because of Paul’s Spirit-inspired writings, people throughout the centuries have been emboldened to share the gospel. He knew the vital importance of Jesus’ Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20). That’s why, in Romans 12, he reminds us: “Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord” (v. 11). When we have the Holy Spirit living inside us, He makes us zealous to tell others about Jesus.

I love the idea of stillness. Of quiet. Of resting in the refuge of God’s care (Psalm 46:1). And an often-quoted passage from Psalm 46 teaches us that quieting our hearts, our minds, and our souls is integral to knowing God:  “Be still, and know that I am God” (v. 10).

But being still isn’t easy, is it? Being quiet—and especially trying to still our hearts before God—can sometimes seem almost impossible. Why is that?

One of the most basic laws of physics tells us that “objects in motion tend to stay in motion.” So shifting from constant motion, activity, and obligation isn’t easy because it involves letting the momentum of our activity come to rest. We might think of it like a boat’s wake: even as a boat tries to stop, the momentum of its wake—the waves it caused that are now catching up to the still boat—still roll beneath, pushing it a along.

If you recognize the value of stillness but struggle to get there, that’s one reason why. Our activities and overall pace are like that “object in motion.” So give yourself plenty of space and grace as you sit before God and rest in Him. It may take some time for the waves of your spiritual “wake” to wash past you, to settle into being quiet before Him.