Has someone ever asked you, “What is God teaching you right now?” And maybe your our heart drops into your stomach because you know there’s an answer—yet nothing comes to mind.
You start to rattle off the safe ones—God is faithful, God provides—because the truth of the matter is, He’s always reminding us of that. But there’s something more, you just can’t quite piece it all together.
This reaction might not just be about forgetfulness or nerves or the staring eyes anticipating our answer; it could be pointing to a deeper issue—a lack of intentional self-reflection. The kind of reflection that quiets our hearts before the Prince of Peace and tries to make sense of all the information that has swirled around us from Scripture, prayers, art forms, and the counsel of others.
We live in a fast-paced world, and in the moment, it often feels easier to let the swirling cloud of information grow rather than to still ourselves before God. But the truth is, this often paralyzes us and makes it increasingly difficult to unpack all that has accumulated.
Quiet, intentional reflection can be daunting, especially in a world that encourages distraction and constant activity. But how often does taking the time to pause bring clarity and draw connections we never could have made on our own? When we pause to reflect, we step into God’s design.
From the very beginning, in Genesis, we see His desire to bring order from chaos. He does this on a bigger scale as the sun rises and sets each day, but also within us when we choose to follow Him. Sin brings destruction and disorder to our lives, while the Spirit breathes in peace and organization.
When we neglect self-reflection with God, we live in a state of fogginess and shallow thinking, struggling to produce answers with depth and vulnerability because they feel out of reach. To combat this, we must approach the One who holds all things together.
Practically, this can look different for everyone but the model we want to follow is Jesus. He took time to be alone with His Father—often. When He withdrew, the voices of the crowd grew quiet, allowing him to process his life and receive guidance and do the work of the Father.
We are all made uniquely meaning the way we process and reflect looks different from person to person. For some, it means sitting outside in the sunshine, quietly basking in God’s presence. For others, it’s a full stationary set at the kitchen table—writing notes and drawing diagrams listening to the Spirit draw connections. Some may find it in movement, walking and talking out loud, taking up space with the Lord. Or perhaps it’s a combination of all of these or something entirely different.
If we choose to ignore this vital practice, we choose to live half-awake to what God is doing, risking living in a state of spiritual dullness—aware of God’s presence but unable to fully perceive or engage with what He is doing. He longs to commune with His children and reveal Himself as we sort through the lessons and the experiences of this life. He wants to teach us as our Rabbi so that we may become like Him. He doesn’t want us to wander, dazed and confused. Today, may we choose to do the hard and holy work, sitting with our Father, allowing him to weave His truth into the fabric of the quiet spaces where He meets us.