Left alone, we drift toward comfort. We have to choose Christ on purpose.
Nobody drifts into spiritual discipline. It doesn’t happen by accident, and it doesn’t happen because you woke up one random morning with a deeper walk with Christ than you had the week before.
Left alone, we drift toward whatever is easiest. Comfort. Distraction. Entertainment. Excuses. That’s the natural direction of the human heart, and if you don’t believe me, watch what happens to your own devotional life the first week you stop being intentional about it.
I know because I’ve lived both sides of that.
Where This Really Started
I didn’t expect Faith for Real Life to change me. This blog started as a way to encourage other people in their walk with Christ — I never imagined the person God would start with was me. Truth is, this blog isn’t even where it started. My middle daughter is the one who reignited it — being back in church, chasing a stronger walk with Christ — long before I ever thought about writing a word of it. She has no idea she did that. I don’t know that I’ve ever told her.
I thought I was building a website. God had already started rebuilding me before I wrote a single post.
It has forced me into God’s Word every day, made prayer less of a routine and more of a conversation, and pushed me to be honest about my struggles, my victories, and the places God is still working on me.
More than once, in the middle of a hard day, I’ve caught myself asking, what would Jesus actually do here — not because it sounded like the right Christian answer, but because I couldn’t write about following Christ if I wasn’t willing to wrestle with it myself.
The Warning Is in the Word “Drift”
Scripture doesn’t use that word by accident. Hebrews warns us to “pay the most careful attention to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away” (Hebrews 2:1, NLT). Drift isn’t a crisis of faith. It’s the absence of attention. Nobody decides to drift. You just stop paying attention, and the current does the rest.
Following Jesus has never been passive. He didn’t say coast after me. He said, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross daily, and follow me” (Luke 9:23, NLT).
Daily. That word changes everything.
James put it even more plainly: don’t just listen to God’s word — do what it says, or you’re only fooling yourself(James 1:22, NLT). Faith that never moves your feet isn’t faith you’re actually living. It’s faith you’re agreeing with from a safe distance.
The Spiritual Discipline of Training
Paul told Timothy to train himself for godliness, because no athlete becomes strong by accident. Godliness doesn’t show up from wishing for it. It grows through faithful training, and it’s worth more than anything physical training can offer (1 Timothy 4:7-8, NLT). Nobody drifts into that kind of spiritual discipline. You build it one rep at a time, the same way you’d build anything else worth having.
Paul also told the Galatians not to grow weary of doing good, because the harvest comes if we don’t give up (Galatians 6:9, NLT). I used to think that verse was written for the days I’d want to quit. Then weeks turned into months of writing this blog, and I realized something I didn’t expect — I haven’t gotten tired of it. Not once. If anything, I want more of it. More posts. More people reading. Devotionals I haven’t written yet. That’s not because I’m disciplined. That’s what happens when you stay close enough to the source long enough for it to become who you are instead of something you do.
God Changed My Desires
Church isn’t something I make myself do anymore. It isn’t an obligation or another box on the weekend list. It’s my reset. After a long week, it’s where my heart settles down. I leave refreshed in a way nothing else seems to accomplish. That’s spiritual discipline working quietly instead of loudly — nobody sees it happen, but you feel the difference.
I’ve learned something else about myself. My old life after work was the TV going on and staying on, and most weekends were about going out — being around everyone, being in the center of it. If we weren’t out and about, it felt like I was missing something.
Now some of my favorite moments happen when it’s quiet. A cup of coffee. My devotional. My Bible open. Prayer. Working on Faith for Real Life. The television hardly comes on anymore — not because it’s wrong, but because I honestly don’t miss it.
People tell me that’s just part of getting older. Maybe age has something to do with it. But I don’t think that’s the real reason.
I think I’m getting closer to God. The more time I spend with Him, the more I want to spend with Him. Reading His Word more shows me how much I still don’t know. And praying more often means I’m talking with Him throughout the day, not just when life gets hard.
The People Who Sharpen You
God has also used people to change me in ways I didn’t ask for and didn’t see coming. My wife has shaped me more than she probably knows. My nephew Brian has opened my eyes to things about myself, emotionally and spiritually, that I hadn’t faced before Faith For Real Life. And there’s Jesse — a friend on the worship team whose walk with Christ is so evident you can see it on him. The three of us — me, Brian, and Jesse — all wear matching “Iron Sharpens Iron” bracelets, because that’s genuinely what we are to each other.
Jesse’s blunt. He gets straight to the point. And once, during a season I was struggling more than I let on, he came to me on his own and prayed over me — not because I asked, but because he noticed and he cared enough to act on it. That’s what iron sharpening iron actually looks like. It doesn’t wait to be invited.
I still love people. I still enjoy good conversation and time with the people I care about. But if you gave me a free afternoon, I’d probably choose holding one of my grandchildren, opening my Bible, or writing something that might help somebody else take one more step toward Christ.
Years ago that would’ve sounded boring to me. Today it sounds like peace.
I didn’t drift into that. God changed what my heart desired.
Drift Happens Quietly. So Does Growth.
The strange thing about drifting is you usually don’t notice until you’re a long way from where you meant to be. Spiritual growth is just as quiet in reverse. It isn’t one dramatic moment.
It’s one prayer, one chapter, one act of obedience chosen over comfort. Then another. Months later, you look back and realize you’re not the same person. That’s spiritual discipline doing its work in the dark, the same way it always does — not because you were stronger than everyone else, but because God met you every single time you chose to draw near, and because He put people in your path willing to sharpen you along the way.
“Come close to God, and God will come close to you” (James 4:8, NLT). That promise has become more real to me than I ever expected it to be.
You don’t drift toward holiness. You choose Christ. Again. And again. And somewhere along the way, you realize you’re not just following Jesus — by His grace, He’s been changing you the whole time. Sometimes that choosing looks like moving before you fully understand why.
A Closing Prayer
God, I don’t want to drift. I want to notice the small choices before they become the distance between us. Thank You for meeting me every time I’ve chosen to come close, and for the people You’ve placed in my life who sharpen me even when I don’t ask for it. Show me where I’ve gone quiet without realizing it. Amen.
If you’re honest with yourself right now — not where you were a year ago, but today — are you swimming toward Christ, or just not fighting the current? What’s one small, daily thing you’ve let slide that used to keep you close to Him? And who in your life is sharpening you — have you thanked them for it?
One Response
♥️ so true!