Trying Softer

My younger son’s birthday is right around the corner. Every year as the thermometers rise and we turn the page to August, I think of the summer I was pregnant with him. We had some extreme heat that year and when I was almost full-term, there were days I felt I was being crowded out of my own body. The heat and physical discomfort made me determined to go into labor, so I started taking brisk walks in hopes of kicking my body into gear. I’ll never forget leaving the house one evening while my husband stayed back to put our two-year-old to bed. Sitting beside our pajama-clad son as they waved goodbye at the window, my husband called out “Remember, you’re not going to walk that baby out! He’ll come when he’s ready.” I was determined to prove him wrong, but labor ended up starting days later at a time and place that was not what I would have chosen.

Trying hard makes us feel powerful—like we can force a specific outcome and make circumstances unfold in the timing want. Unfortunately, though, it often causes us to think our effort is the most important factor.

In both parenting and ministry, I’ve learned that trying softer leaves more room for God to work and enables relationships to stay healthier. Taking this posture looks more passive but actually diverts our energy towards prayer and reliance on the Holy Spirit. It invites God to work in His timing and according to His plans. Trying softer means trusting Him to produce the fruit of patience, gentleness, and self-control when we’re tempted to take matters into our own hands and act with impatience, harshness, and impulsivity (see Galatians 5:22). Let’s explore a couple of real life examples to see how this looks

One of the most humbling places I’ve learned about trying softer has been in my role as a mom. My husband and I had always assumed our kids would go to college. As a former high school teacher, I looked forward to helping my boys chart a path that would open opportunities for higher education. However, at the start of his sophomore year, one of my sons began balking at my suggestions. He wanted nothing to do with building a resumé of experiences to showcase on college applications. Positioning himself to earn academic and extracurricular honors wasn’t compelling to him. No matter how I much I reasoned with him, he refused to listen.

Underlying tension simmered between us for months until it boiled over one day when I was peppering him with yet another helpful, albeit unsolicited, suggestion. In exasperation, my son cut me off mid-sentence and snapped: “College is stupid and a waste of money.” Offended and frustrated, I held back from spewing out an emotional reaction. In that moment, I realized trying harder to persuade him would have divided us even further.

Later, after much prayer and discussion, my husband and I agreed to let our son chart his path forward; all talk of college ceased in our household. We held our tongues but continued to pray that God would lead him to discover his passions and pursue the path that was best for him. Although it was difficult, we let go of the notion that college was his only option and waited to see how his plans would unfold.

Two years later, as our son prepared to start his senior year, I summoned the courage to ask about his post-high school plans. To my surprise, he told me he was interested in college and asked if I would help him with the application process. He later admitted to me that the pressure I had put on him to build his resumé felt inauthentic—like I was trying to make him “show well” to impress others instead of letting his genuine interests reveal who he was. He felt like a commodity to which I was trying to add value. It was sobering and convicting to hear his perspective. That fall he applied to four schools, received acceptances to all of them, and ended up choosing a small Christian college I never would have considered for him. 

This past May, my son graduated from that school after four incredible years. He thrived and grew there intellectually, spiritually, and relationally. Never once did I see a grade he received, but we often talked about what he was learning there. He gained valuable insights studying abroad in far flung places like Egypt, Israel, and India. At graduation he wore a cord around his neck signifying he’d completed his degree cum laude. He hadn’t even bothered to tell my husband and me. By easing off, we’d let him navigate decisions, make mistakes, and take ownership of his education. Better still, the change in our approach improved our relationship in ways we hadn’t anticipated.

The wisdom I’ve gleaned about trying softer has also benefitted me in ministry. I love serving and leading, but sometimes my enthusiasm creates a false sense of urgency. My desire to implement a vision and move plans forward can be on a timetable that’s a bit too aggressive. Trying harder to push my agenda or timeline often leads to hasty decisions, hard feelings, and frustrating interactions. 

After several missteps, I’ve learned the value of trying softer by pausing to pray and to give others time to do the same. Planning, serving, and leading in ministry without seeking God first is the opposite of abiding with Jesus. We can do nothing of spiritual significance on our own wisdom and strength. That’s what Jesus means when He says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5, NIV)

Just like with my son, patience, gentleness and self-control have helped me to try softer and have given the Lord room to work. Instead of pressuring people to make a decision, say yes to serving, or provide information I need, I’ve learned to give them time to respond thoughtfully. Treating others gently frees them to say “yes” or “no” with joy instead of guilt. Relying on the Holy Spirit’s guidance as I lead has created meaningful ministry bonds, lasting friendships, and zero drama.

Where are you tempted to try harder to force your agenda? How might trying softer increase your trust in God and improve your relationships? Consider praying and asking the Lord to show you one place in your life where you need more patience, gentleness, and self-control. Abide in Him and watch the fruit He bears through you.

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Balance and Blind Spots

Have you ever driven a car with unbalanced wheels? If so, you’ve probably experienced a vibrating, bumpy ride. Ignoring the warning signs means wearing your tires unevenly and having to buy new ones sooner than you’d like. Or, have you ever driven a car with a huge blind spot? You glance over your shoulder before changing lanes but still miss the car coming up beside you until you nearly collide with it. While balance issues and blind spots are problematic out on the road, they also have detrimental effects in our personal lives—especially when it comes to serving others.

Discovering and using our spiritual gifts feels energizing and inspiring. Doing the good things God has “prepared in advance for us to do” (Ephesians 2:10) brings deep joy and fulfillment. What can be challenging, though, is learning to balance that satisfying sense of purpose with other responsibilities in our lives that require our ongoing attention. Sometimes we’re passionate about opportunities to use our time and gifts, but we must also be discerning about maintaining healthy margin. I’ve learned this (sometimes the hard way) through situations with my immediate and extended family over the past decade.

Seeking the Spirit’s discernment for setting priorities and managing time commitments has become a regular practice for me. I don’t want my household to dread every time I agree to teach, lead, mentor, or serve. So, maintaining a healthy balance between ministering to others, caring for myself, and spending time with my family keeps me from getting burnt out and them from getting bitter.

Our time and energy are finite, so with every “yes” we are inadvertently saying “no” to something else. It’s taken a while to realize the value of having margin and not cramming my schedule completely full. If I give all of my effort, energy, and attention to serving others, I don’t have much left for my family or other personal relationships. We live in a world that leads us to believe we can operate at full capacity 24/7– that we can “have it all” and “do it all” with no fallout or negative consequences. In reality though, we are not limitless. Relationships suffer when we go on autopilot and stop nurturing them.

God gave me perspective on this when I took on a significant leadership role at church just as my mom’s declining health forced her to stop driving. Although others also stepped in to help, I became responsible for accompanying her on most appointments. Some days it felt like I knew my mom’s doctors, medications, and health issues more intimately than my own. I took care of her needs efficiently, but often felt distracted and anxious to move on to the next responsibility in my day.  My mom was keenly aware of how busy life was for me. Time spent with her revolved around accomplishing tasks. Adding time to do enjoyable things together was a luxury I didn’t feel I could afford.

During that season, the Lord revealed a huge blind spot in my attitude. I realized that rushing through time spent with my mom was both hypocritical and unloving. Through the gentle but firm conviction of the Holy Spirit, I stopped treating her like a task to check off on my to-do list. Inspired by Colossians 1:11, I started praying before I’d pick her up, asking for endurance and patience. I wanted God to help me serve her with a spirit of love instead of obligation. When she felt self-conscious about taking time from my other “important” responsibilities, I began reassuring her that she wasn’t an inconvenience or an interruption from “real” ministry. Not only did this improve our relationship, it brought both of us more joy and peace.

If we serve people at church or out in the world, but find the needs of our own families irritating, there’s a blind spot that needs to be addressed. Using all of our energy to pour into others means giving our families a depleted, exhausted version of ourselves. And overlooking them also means we’re missing out on some beautiful ways God can use us and forge meaningful family relationships. First Corinthians 13 describes what love looks like: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV) Is there something in this description that convicts you? Will you commit to asking the Lord to help you with it? Let’s strive to show this kind of love to people we serve in ministry, as well as our families and those we encounter out in the world.

If you’re like me and struggle with wanting to say “yes” to all the things, consider where you might be out of balance. Before agreeing to the next exciting ministry endeavor, pause to pray for God’s clear leading. Ask your family and/or wise friends if they think it’s the right fit and timing; humbly allow them to identify any blind spots you may be missing. Consider your season of life and the other responsibilities you already have. Taking time to evaluate before diving in allows you to say “yes” or “no” with confidence. Serving with balance and without blind spots brings joy to you and blessing to everyone else in your life.

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Want to learn more about healthy balance? Check out Lisa Terkeurst’s book: The Best Yes.