I wish “set it and forget it” worked with my spirituality.
I’d love to wake up one day and say, I’m at peace. I have complete faith. My thoughts are steady, and everything just flows.
But that’s not how it works.
Our journey is our journey—steps forward, steps back, a mix of good and hard. There’s no autopilot when it comes to faith.
I wrestle with my mind… and my emotions. They don’t take days off. They’re always there, ready to pull me into something.
Sometimes the mind feels like that negative friend who says, “Have you thought about this problem?”
And just like that—now I have.
Other times, it’s worse. It’s the troublemaker, bored and looking for a fight.
And I take the bait.
The battlefield? My mind.
The casualties? My peace, my mood, my presence.
Just the other day, I was driving on a short getaway—something meant to be relaxing—and my mind jumped ahead to April and May. Travel, flights, packed days, being off routine, losing control.
Before I knew it, I was living in multiple future scenarios all at once—stacked on top of each other like chaos.
I wasn’t in the car anymore.
I was months ahead, carrying things that didn’t even exist yet.
And it hit me this morning:
Faith and peace are practiced moment by moment.
They are never “set it and forget it.”
To be fair to myself, I noticed it. I caught the drift. I could see where I stepped away—from presence, from trust, from God.
Because the mind… it’s wired for survival. It’s always scanning, always anticipating danger.
But faith calls us somewhere different. Not into the future—but back into now.
Back into what’s real.
Back into what’s given.
Back into trust.
Maybe peace isn’t something we arrive at once and keep forever.
Maybe it’s something we return to—again and again.
Scripture
“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
— Matthew 6:34
“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”
— Isaiah 26:3
Prayer
Lord,
Bring me back to this moment when my mind runs ahead of You. Help me to release what hasn’t happened and trust You with what will. Teach me to return—again and again—to Your peace, Your presence, and Your truth. Steady my mind, guard my heart, and remind me that You are here, right now.
Amen.
