There are moments when I still meet the version of myself I don’t want to be. When I get emotionally triggered, especially in family arguments, the old me snaps awake. The one who has to be right. The one who digs in, gets louder, pushes harder, and tries to control the moment by force. And when that happens, it feels like all the spiritual work I’ve done just gets thrown out the window.
Part of me knows that simply seeing the old patterns means I’ve grown. That awareness itself is a sign of spiritual maturity. But I can’t shake the feeling that underneath it all, maybe I’m still emotionally volatile… still immature… still not the kind of person God would want me to be.
In those moments, the shame hits hard. It makes me question the whole thing:
Am I really a changed man?
Am I fooling myself?
Is all this talk about peace and God and growth just a façade?
Those outbursts make me feel out of control, and a part of me wants to just give up. But there’s another voice… a quieter, steadier one… that reminds me:
The fact that I notice the fall means I’m no longer living in it.
God isn’t showing me these moments to shame me. He’s showing me how far I’ve come. He’s reminding me that the man who reacts out of anger is no longer my default, just a shadow I’m still learning to walk out of.
So maybe this setback is still progress. Maybe this is another chance to stop, reset, and find peace in the middle of the disturbance. Maybe this is how growth actually works: messy, humbling, and full of grace I don’t always feel, but always need.
“The righteous may fall seven times, but they rise again.”
Proverbs 24:16
Father, I come to You with a humbled heart.
You know the parts of me that still react, still fear, still rise up in old ways.
Help me remember that these moments don’t define my identity;
they reveal where You are still healing me.
Give me the strength to pause before I speak,
the grace to listen when I’m hurt,
and the wisdom to choose peace over pride.
Thank You for never giving up on me,
for walking with me through every fall and every rising.
Teach me to grow through these moments,
so that each setback becomes a doorway back to You.
Amen.
