A Discontent
After reading The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, I realized something unsettling: I had a distaste for my current walk with Jesus.
I was drowning in the noise of this world—technology buzzing nonstop, news cycling 24/7, no real community, and a culture obsessed with materialism. Always hurrying. Always rushing.
And I had to ask: Was this really God’s will for His people? Was this really His will for me? Surely there is something more I’m missing?
Spiritually Asleep
Inside, I felt a stirring—like waking up from a deep sleep.
Yes, I went to church. I prayed. I read my Bible. I tithed faithfully. I was a “good” Christian. But deep down I knew: I wasn’t alive in the Spirit.
There was no fire inside me. No overflow of God’s presence.
And I longed for that. I wanted to be the kind of person that when someone meets them, it’s obvious they love Jesus and are filled with the Spirit. Not in a strange or “overly spiritual” way—but in a genuine, undeniable way.
A New Hunger
So I began seeking. Reading. Asking questions. It felt foreign, but I knew something was missing.
I dove into Scripture, searching out every verse on the Holy Spirit. I studied how first-century followers lived. I even looked for references to the Spirit in the Old Testament, not just the New.
On this journey, I picked up Tyler Stanton’s book Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools. Weird book name, I’ll admit but gold! At the end of Chapter 1, he suggested a simple practice:
- Start with one minute of silence, solitude, and stillness each day.
- Add one minute each week until you reach ten minutes.
It sounded simple. But it revealed a painful truth.
Rarely Still, Rarely Silent
I was rarely still.
I was rarely alone.
I was rarely in silence.
Here I was, supposedly “walking with Jesus,” yet I hardly ever paused long enough for Him to speak.
So I tried it. I set a timer. I sat in stillness, silence, and solitude—usually on my porch. At first, the minutes felt like hours. I even caught myself wondering, Did I forget to set the timer? Have I been sitting here for hours? (I hadn’t. It just felt that way.)
In those moments, I would quietly pray: “Holy Spirit, come. Jesus, come.”
No phone. No notifications. Just me, waiting.
Learning to Listen
At first, it was hard—so much harder than I expected. But I began to see the truth: in our world of technology and busyness, we don’t leave space for God to speak.
And how can we hear His gentle whisper if there’s always noise? Have you done an honest self assessment – when are you alone, still and silent – just waiting for God to speak to you? I was so convicted of my current walk with Jesus. I was clearly NOT giving Him time. How could I say I was a friend to Jesus if I didn’t spend one on one time with Him and giving Him a chance to talk?
I once heard it said: It’s better to hear God’s whisper than to wait until He has to yell.
Umm… facts.
From the Porch…
As we wrap up our chat today, I pray you take a minute and just stop everything you’re doing. Turn off the noise. Maybe it’s in your car before you drive or walking back from mailbox but pause. Say “Thank you Lord Jesus for today. Holy Spirit you are welcome in my life.”
Keep doing it every single day 🩷