Undevoted – Page 7 – God or Delusion?

Sustainable Service: A Response to June 16th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “What Do You Make of This?”, promises that believers can deliberately “lay down our lives” for Jesus through daily heroic sacrifice, with God providing the Holy Spirit to enable loyal devotion despite opposing circumstances, claiming that Christ’s honor is literally “at stake” in believers’ lives.

Here’s what that actually looks like:

“Christ’s honor is at stake in your life,” Pastor Williams would say, and for fifteen years, Maria Gonzalez believed him.

She’d sacrificed her nursing career to serve as the church’s unpaid children’s director, convinced God had called her to this heroic daily devotion. Sixty hours a week developing curricula, training volunteers, counseling families—while her husband worked double shifts to compensate for her unpaid labor. The Holy Spirit was supposed to sustain this sacrifice, she’d been taught. Her loyalty to Jesus was being tested.

Where was that supernatural sustenance? Maria developed chronic fatigue, anxiety. Her marriage cracked under financial pressure. Her own children felt abandoned while she mothered everyone else’s kids. When she tried setting boundaries, church leadership quoted today’s verse: laying down your life means exactly that—total sacrifice for Christ’s honor.

The breaking point wasn’t spiritual. It was brutally practical.

Maria’s teenage daughter started cutting herself. In family therapy, the counselor asked uncomfortable questions about Maria’s emotional availability for her own family. No mention of divine calling or heroic sacrifice—just cold reality: children need present, emotionally available parents.

For the first time, Maria wondered if her “sacrificial service” was destroying the people she loved most. She waited for divine confirmation, some supernatural guidance about her calling.

Silence.

No divine voice. No Holy Spirit conviction. Just the mounting evidence that something was catastrophically wrong with a system that demanded a mother’s complete absence from her struggling child’s life.

Her friend Carmen had escaped a similar church trap two years earlier. Carmen now worked as a pediatric nurse—still serving children, but with fair compensation, professional boundaries, actual time off. She found deep meaning in healing work without needing to frame it as laying down her life for an invisible deity.

When Maria finally resigned and returned to nursing, the divine silence was thunderous. No disappointed God withdrawing blessing. No spiritual consequences for abandoning her “calling.” Just ordinary relief at having a sustainable schedule and fair paycheck.

Her family relationships healed immediately. Her daughter’s therapy accelerated with Maria emotionally present. Financial pressure evaporated. Her marriage recovered.

The “heroic” sacrifice that supposedly honored Christ had actually brutalized her family’s basic needs. The higher calling had been cover for the church’s refusal to properly compensate essential staff.

Christ’s honor, it turned out, wasn’t at stake in Maria’s exhaustion. But her daughter’s mental health certainly was.

The most honest moment came when Maria realized she’d been waiting fifteen years for divine empowerment that never existed, from a God who’d never been there to honor in the first place.

Reflection Question: When has stepping back from “sacrificial service” actually improved your ability to care for the people who matter most?

This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.

Ordinary Difficulty: A Response to June 15th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Test of Character”, promises that believers have “inherited the divine nature” and that “the omnipotent power of the grace of God” backs even the tiniest act of obedience, with God “engineering our circumstances” and routine drudgery being divinely appointed for character development.

Here’s what I witnessed instead:

When my friend Jennifer’s mother developed dementia, her pastor assured her this was God engineering circumstances for character development. “You’ve inherited the divine nature,” he said. “The omnipotent power of God’s grace will sustain you through this drudgery. Every act of caregiving has supernatural power behind it when done in obedience.”

For months, Jennifer waited for that promised divine empowerment. She changed adult diapers believing God’s grace backed each task. She repeated conversations dozens of times daily, trusting divine purpose lay behind the repetition. She stayed up nights with her increasingly agitated mother, expecting supernatural sustenance to make the drudgery meaningful.

The divine power never showed up. Jennifer grew exhausted, resentful, isolated. Her marriage strained. Her health deteriorated from chronic sleep deprivation. The promised grace was nowhere to be found when her mother didn’t recognize her, when accidents happened, when Jennifer finally snapped from sheer exhaustion.

Her brother Mark took a completely different approach. He researched dementia systematically—learning about the brain changes causing their mother’s behaviors. He connected with support groups, gathering practical strategies from families who’d actually navigated this terrain. No spiritual framework, just information and community.

Mark arranged professional respite care so Jennifer could sleep. He installed safety devices and created routines based on dementia research, not divine calling. He found an adult day program that engaged their mother’s remaining abilities while giving the family actual relief.

The “grace” that finally sustained their family came from human knowledge and community support. Mark’s research revealed their mother’s aggression wasn’t spiritual warfare but predictable neurological changes manageable with medication and environmental modifications.

When Jennifer finally accepted help from professional caregivers, she felt relief rather than spiritual failure. The young aide who helped wasn’t motivated by divine calling but by training, fair wages, and genuine compassion developed through experience.

The “omnipotent power” that made caregiving sustainable was Medicare coverage, respite programs, and evidence-based dementia care—systems created by human effort and policy. No supernatural intervention required.

Jennifer eventually discovered that accepting the ordinary difficulty of caregiving, without expecting divine transformation, freed her to seek the practical support that actually worked. Her character developed not through spiritualized drudgery but by learning to balance compassion with self-care, accepting her limitations, and collaborating with others to provide dignified care.

The silence where God’s engineering was supposed to be? That silence was the most honest thing about the whole experience.

Reflection Question: When has accepting the ordinary difficulty of a situation, without expecting spiritual transformation, led to more effective solutions?

Realistic Acceptance: A Response to June 14th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Get a Move On”, promises that believers can “construct, with patience and determination, a way of thinking that is exactly in line with” Jesus, achieving the same “inner abiding that was never disturbed” through bringing “every thought into captivity” and learning to “abide in Jesus” in all circumstances.

Here’s a different approach:

When Rachel’s husband was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s at age 58, her pastor urged her to “abide in Jesus” through the crisis. “Construct a way of thinking in line with Christ,” he advised. “Bring every anxious thought into captivity. God wants you to have the same inner serenity Jesus had, accepting whatever circumstances the Father chooses for you.”

Rachel tried desperately to achieve this promised spiritual serenity. She spent hours in prayer, attempting to “abide in Jesus” while managing doctor appointments, legal paperwork, and her husband’s increasing confusion. She forced herself to accept their circumstances as God’s will, believing that anxiety revealed a lack of faith.

But the promised inner peace never came. Rachel found herself constantly agitated, grieving the loss of their future plans, terrified of the financial implications, and overwhelmed by caregiving responsibilities. Her attempts to “bring every thought into captivity” only created additional pressure to maintain a spiritual composure she couldn’t achieve.

Meanwhile, her neighbor Linda faced her own family crisis when her teenage daughter was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Instead of seeking spiritual serenity, Linda educated herself about mental health. She joined a support group for families affected by bipolar disorder, learning practical strategies from other parents who understood the unique challenges.

Linda didn’t try to construct Christ-like thinking or achieve undisturbed inner abiding. She acknowledged her fears, sought professional guidance, and developed realistic expectations for managing her daughter’s condition. She learned about medication compliance, warning signs of episodes, and how to create a stable home environment.

The “acceptance” Linda achieved wasn’t spiritual submission to divine circumstances but informed understanding of her daughter’s medical condition. Her openness came not from abiding in Jesus but from honest conversations with her daughter, her therapist, and other families navigating similar challenges.

When Rachel observed Linda’s practical approach, she realized that her attempts to achieve spiritual serenity had prevented her from accessing helpful resources. She joined an Alzheimer’s caregivers support group, where she found people who understood her fears without expecting her to transform them through spiritual discipline.

Rachel discovered that “abiding” in her actual circumstances—with all their difficulty and uncertainty—was more helpful than trying to abide in an idealized spiritual state. The peace she eventually found came not from undisturbed inner communion but from practical knowledge, community support, and accepting her human limitations rather than striving for Christ-like serenity.

Reflection Question: When has accepting your actual emotional responses been more helpful than trying to achieve spiritual serenity through disciplined thinking?

Authentic Service: A Response to June 13th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Come with Me”, promises that disciples can learn to “abide in Jesus” in any condition, receiving a spiritual “new name” that completely erases pride and self-sufficiency, with Jesus making his permanent dwelling with those who let him “be everything.”

Here’s a different approach:

When Amy felt called to missionary work in her early twenties, her pastor encouraged her to “consecrate your right to yourself” to God and trust him to make a “holy experiment” of her life. “Abandon your natural preferences,” he urged. “Let God engineer your circumstances, and you’ll have spontaneous obedience and moral originality.”

Amy took this advice seriously. She suppressed her introverted nature and discomfort with evangelism, believing these were selfish preferences that needed to be surrendered. She accepted a missions assignment in Brazil despite having no aptitude for languages and feeling overwhelmed by large group ministry. “God’s experiments always succeed,” she reminded herself.

But the promised transformation never came. Amy struggled with Portuguese, felt drained by constant social interaction, and found herself ineffective at the evangelistic work that felt so unnatural to her. Instead of moral originality, she experienced anxiety and burnout. Rather than spontaneous obedience, she forced herself through daily activities that depleted her energy and confidence.

Meanwhile, her friend Sarah took a different approach to serving others. Instead of abandoning her natural temperament, Sarah worked with it. She recognized her gifts for one-on-one mentoring and her love of research and writing. Rather than forcing herself into missionary evangelism, she developed programs for local refugee resettlement.

Sarah didn’t consecrate her “right to herself” but rather consecrated her actual self—with all its quirks and limitations—to meaningful service. She used her natural analytical skills to research effective integration programs. Her preference for deep relationships over large groups made her an excellent mentor for refugee families navigating new systems.

The “holy experiment” that succeeded was Sarah’s decision to serve authentically rather than forcing herself into an ill-fitting spiritual mold. Her work had real impact because it aligned with her strengths rather than fighting against her temperament. The freshness in her ministry came not from a divine wellspring but from doing work that energized rather than drained her.

When Amy returned from Brazil after a difficult two years, she felt like a spiritual failure. But observing Sarah’s sustainable service helped her realize that effective ministry might require embracing rather than abandoning her natural design. Amy found her own path serving through behind-the-scenes administrative work that supported other missionaries—work that felt natural and produced genuine results.

The invitation Amy eventually extended to others wasn’t “Come, abandon yourself” but “Come, discover how your authentic gifts can serve real needs.”

Reflection Question: When has working with your natural temperament and preferences been more effective than trying to abandon them for spiritual service?

Practical Identity: A Response to June 12th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Come with Me”, promises that disciples can learn to “abide in Jesus” in any condition, receiving a spiritual “new name” that completely erases pride and self-sufficiency, with Jesus making his permanent dwelling with those who let him “be everything.”

Here’s a different approach:

When Marcus started attending the men’s Bible study at his church, the leader taught from this passage about spending time with Jesus and receiving a “new name” that would erase pride and transform character. “Let Jesus be everything,” Pastor Williams urged. “Abide in him constantly, and he’ll give you a new identity that replaces your old self-sufficient nature.”

Marcus embraced this teaching enthusiastically. He spent daily time in prayer and Bible study, believing Jesus was writing a new spiritual identity over his natural tendencies toward anger and impatience. For weeks, he felt transformed—more patient with his wife, calmer with his teenage son, less reactive to stress at work.

But when his company announced layoffs and Marcus’s department was eliminated, his spiritual “new name” seemed to vanish. He erupted at his boss, snapped at his family, and spent evenings drinking beer and watching TV instead of reading scripture. The promised permanent transformation felt like a cruel joke.

Meanwhile, his neighbor Carlos was dealing with his own job loss through a different approach. Instead of seeking spiritual identity change, Carlos worked with a therapist to develop better emotional regulation skills. He learned practical techniques for managing stress and anger—breathing exercises, cognitive reframing, regular exercise, and honest communication about his fears.

Carlos didn’t claim to have a new name or transformed nature. He simply acknowledged that job loss triggered his anxiety and worked to develop healthier responses. He joined a job seekers’ support group where people shared practical strategies and emotional support. He updated his resume, practiced interview skills, and networked systematically.

When Marcus watched Carlos handle unemployment with consistent calm and purpose, he felt ashamed of his own spiritual failure. His pastor suggested that Marcus needed to “abide more fully” and “make fewer excuses,” implying that his struggles revealed insufficient surrender to Jesus.

Eventually, Marcus realized that his attempts to maintain a spiritual identity had prevented him from learning practical emotional skills. Carlos hadn’t erased his natural personality but had developed tools to manage it effectively. His steadiness came not from divine transformation but from acquired wisdom about how to navigate difficult circumstances.

Marcus began attending the same support group as Carlos. Instead of trying to abide in Jesus constantly, he learned to abide with his actual emotions while developing healthier ways to express them. His “new name” wasn’t spiritually granted but practically earned through learning better life skills.

Reflection Question: When has learning practical emotional skills been more helpful than seeking spiritual transformation of character?

Proven Methods: A Response to June 11th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Getting There”, promises that simply “coming to Jesus” through complete surrender automatically brings life into accordance with one’s deepest desires, stops sinning, and provides divine rest that transforms spiritual exhaustion into “majestic vitality” through instant personal contact with Christ.

Here’s a different approach:

When Elena hit rock bottom with her gambling addiction—$30,000 in debt, lying to her family, stealing from her employer—her sister Rosa urged her to “come to Jesus.” “Just surrender everything to him,” Rosa pleaded. “He promises to give you rest and change everything. Personal contact with Jesus will transform you instantly.”

Elena desperately wanted that kind of supernatural solution. She attended revival meetings, went forward during altar calls, prayed for Jesus to take away her compulsion to gamble. She surrendered her life repeatedly, waiting for the promised transformation that would align her actions with her deepest desire to stop destroying her life.

But the instant change never came. Elena would leave church feeling spiritually renewed, only to find herself at the casino the next evening, feeding money she didn’t have into slot machines. The cycle of spiritual surrender followed by compulsive behavior created additional shame on top of her existing addiction.

Meanwhile, her coworker James took a different approach to his own gambling problem. Instead of seeking spiritual transformation, he sought evidence-based treatment. He joined Gamblers Anonymous and began working the twelve steps with a sponsor who understood addiction from lived experience. He attended cognitive-behavioral therapy sessions that helped him identify triggers and develop healthier coping strategies.

James’s recovery wasn’t instant or supernatural. It required daily choices, practical tools, and ongoing support. He learned to recognize the brain chemistry behind his gambling urges and developed specific techniques to interrupt the cycle. He set up financial barriers—automatic bill payments, restricted access to cash, accountability with his bank.

The “rest” that Elena eventually found didn’t come from surrendering to Jesus but from surrendering to a recovery process that worked. She joined GA after her third failed attempt at spiritual transformation. The group didn’t promise instant change but offered something more valuable: a proven method for managing addiction one day at a time.

Elena’s life did come into alignment with her deepest desires—but through human community, professional guidance, and evidence-based treatment, not divine intervention. The vitality she gained came from rebuilding relationships damaged by gambling, finding new activities that brought genuine joy, and developing self-respect through sustained recovery.

The voice that truly called her to change wasn’t Jesus whispering supernatural invitation but other recovering gamblers sharing their stories and showing her a practical path forward.

Reflection Question: When has finding a proven method for change been more effective than seeking spiritual transformation?

Practical Seeking: A Response to June 10th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Seek If You Have Not Found”, promises that genuine seeking with “your whole heart” and concentrated focus on God guarantees finding divine response through progressive purification and humble knocking at God’s door that will certainly be opened.

Here’s a different approach:

When David’s marriage began falling apart after fifteen years, his pastor urged him to “seek God with your whole heart” about reconciliation. “Narrow your interests until they are centered on God,” the pastor advised. “Concentrate, seek, and you will find God’s will for your marriage.”

David threw himself into spiritual seeking. He spent hours in prayer, fasted regularly, confessed every sin he could remember. He sought divine guidance about whether to fight for the marriage or accept the divorce his wife Sarah wanted. He knocked persistently at God’s door, waiting for supernatural direction.

Months passed without clear divine answers. David grew frustrated with God’s silence and began to question his own spiritual sincerity. Maybe he wasn’t seeking hard enough, wasn’t pure enough, wasn’t humble enough.

Meanwhile, Sarah took a different approach to their marital crisis. Instead of seeking divine intervention, she sought professional help. She researched marriage counselors who specialized in communication issues and found Dr. Martinez, whose evidence-based approach focused on practical relationship skills rather than spiritual solutions.

Sarah asked David to join her in counseling, but he insisted they should seek God’s will first. “We need to humble ourselves before God and let him show us the way,” he argued. Sarah went to counseling alone.

In therapy, Sarah discovered patterns she’d never recognized—how David’s conflict avoidance and her indirect communication style had created years of unresolved resentment. Dr. Martinez taught her to express needs clearly and set healthy boundaries. She learned that their problems weren’t spiritual failures requiring divine intervention but common relationship dynamics that could be addressed with better tools.

When Sarah filed for divorce, David was devastated. His months of spiritual seeking had yielded no divine guidance, no miraculous restoration, no opened doors. But Sarah had found what she was looking for—clarity about her needs, skills for healthier relationships, and peace with her decision.

David eventually realized that his spiritual seeking had been a way of avoiding the practical work their marriage needed. While he was waiting for God to provide answers, Sarah had been seeking real solutions from qualified professionals who could actually help.

The door that opened for Sarah wasn’t divine—it was the counselor’s office, where human wisdom and research-based interventions provided the tools she needed to make informed decisions about her life.

Reflection Question: When has seeking professional help or practical solutions been more effective than seeking divine guidance through spiritual disciplines?

Practical Asking: A Response to June 9th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Ask If You Have Not Received”, promises that “everyone who asks receives” from God, claiming that spiritual begging from a position of “abject poverty” guarantees direct divine response and supernatural provision for those who truly ask.

Here’s a different approach:

When single mother Tanya lost her job as a restaurant server during the pandemic, her pastor told her she needed to ask God for help—not just pray casually, but truly “beg” from a position of spiritual poverty. “Everyone who asks receives,” he assured her. “God promises to provide for those who come to him in desperation.”

Tanya spent weeks in intense prayer, asking God for financial provision, for her unemployment benefits to come through faster, for a miracle job opportunity. She felt spiritually poor enough—three months behind on rent, choosing between groceries and her daughter’s asthma medication, facing eviction. If anyone qualified for God’s promised provision, surely it was her.

But the promised answers didn’t come. Her unemployment claim remained delayed in bureaucratic processing. No job opportunities materialized despite her prayers. The eviction notice arrived regardless of her spiritual begging.

Meanwhile, her neighbor Patricia took a different approach to Tanya’s crisis. Instead of encouraging more prayer, she provided practical help. Patricia researched local assistance programs and helped Tanya apply for emergency rent relief. She connected Tanya with a food bank and childcare cooperative. She shared job leads from her own network and helped Tanya update her resume for office work.

The “receiving” that transformed Tanya’s situation came not from divine response to asking but from human response to need. The rent assistance program provided immediate relief. The job training program prepared her for better-paying work. The food bank ensured her daughter’s nutrition while finances were tight.

When Tanya found stable employment as a medical office assistant, it wasn’t because God had answered her desperate prayers. It was because Patricia had helped her navigate practical resources and human networks. The “direct relationship” that sustained her wasn’t with a divine provider but with a community of people who showed up with concrete assistance.

Tanya realized that her months of spiritual begging had actually delayed her from seeking the human help that was readily available. The poverty that had qualified her for God’s supposed provision was the same poverty that qualified her for effective social services and community support.

The wisdom she gained wasn’t supernaturally granted but practically learned: that asking for help from real people with actual resources was more reliable than asking an invisible God for miraculous provision.

Reflection Question: When have you found that asking for practical help from people was more effective than asking for divine intervention?

Earned Understanding: A Response to June 8th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Determine to Know More”, promises that believers who abandon safety and “launch all on God” will have their eyes spiritually opened and receive divine knowledge automatically when they act on what they know, with God granting supernatural insight and personal transformation.

Here’s a different approach:

When Dr. Rebecca Chen felt stuck in her comfortable university research position, her spiritual director urged her to “launch all on God” and leave for missionary work in Southeast Asia. “God wants you to be something you’ve never been,” he insisted. “You’re playing it safe in the harbor when you should be out in the great deeps of his purpose.”

Rebecca had always been drawn to international development work, but the spiritual framing troubled her. The idea that God would supernaturally grant her knowledge and discernment if she just took a leap of faith seemed reckless, especially when considering work that would affect vulnerable communities.

Instead of making a dramatic spiritual leap, Rebecca chose careful preparation. She spent a year learning Khmer and studying Cambodia’s history, politics, and development challenges. She connected with organizations already working there and listened to Cambodian voices about what kinds of help were actually needed versus what well-meaning foreigners typically offered.

She volunteered with refugee resettlement programs locally to understand cross-cultural dynamics and her own biases. She took courses in sustainable development practices and studied the history of failed aid projects that had caused more harm than good.

When Rebecca finally moved to Cambodia, it wasn’t because God had broken her moorings with a storm, but because she’d methodically prepared herself to contribute meaningfully. Her “spiritual discernment” came not from divine revelation but from months of research, language study, and listening to people who knew the context far better than she did.

The knowledge she gained wasn’t granted supernaturally—it was earned through patient study and humble recognition of what she didn’t know. Her eyes were opened not by divine intervention but by Cambodian colleagues who taught her about local customs, effective approaches, and the unintended consequences of foreign aid.

Rebecca discovered that her spiritual destiny wasn’t mystically predetermined but practically constructed through education, relationships, and choosing to serve in ways that genuinely helped rather than simply satisfying her own need for purpose. The transformation she experienced came not from launching recklessly into God’s purpose but from carefully preparing to serve effectively in partnership with people who welcomed her contribution.

Reflection Question: When has careful preparation and listening to others led to better outcomes than taking dramatic leaps of faith?

Practical Ministry: A Response to June 7th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Don’t Slack Off”, promises that believers who “remain in Jesus” through concentrated spiritual focus achieve supernatural prayer power where “whatever you wish” will be granted, becoming “the will of God” and making choices that are actually “God’s foreordained decrees.”

Here’s a different approach:

When Pastor David’s church launched their new prayer ministry, he taught Chambers’ promise enthusiastically. Members were encouraged to spend daily time “remaining in Jesus” so their prayers would be automatically answered. The more spiritual you became, David explained, the more your will aligned with God’s, making your requests divinely guaranteed.

Maria, a devoted member, embraced this teaching completely. She spent an hour each morning in prayer and Bible study, focusing her spiritual energies on Christ’s atonement. When her husband lost his job, she confidently prayed for quick reemployment, believing her spiritual discipline had earned her answered prayers.

Months passed. Her husband remained unemployed. Their savings dwindled. Maria increased her prayer time, convinced she wasn’t “remaining in Jesus” properly. Pastor David suggested she had unconfessed sin blocking her prayers, or wasn’t trusting enough, or was asking for something outside God’s will.

The spiritual gaslighting devastated Maria more than the financial stress. She began to question her faith, her worthiness, her ability to hear from God. The promise that had seemed so encouraging became a source of shame and self-doubt.

Meanwhile, her neighbor Jennifer took a different approach to their family’s crisis. Instead of intensifying prayer, she intensified action. She helped Maria’s husband update his resume and practice interview skills. She connected him with her network of professional contacts. She researched local job training programs and unemployment benefits.

Jennifer’s “ministry” wasn’t hidden spiritual intercession but visible practical support. She didn’t claim divine power over circumstances—she simply used her human resources to help. Her prayers, when she offered them, were simple requests for wisdom and strength, not demands for specific outcomes.

When Maria’s husband finally found work, it came through Jennifer’s networking, not through Maria’s spiritual discipline. The job was different from what they’d hoped for—lower pay, longer commute—but it was real employment that addressed their actual needs.

Maria realized that her months of intensified prayer had actually distracted her from taking practical steps to help their situation. The fruit that mattered hadn’t come from spiritual concentration but from human connection and concrete action.

Reflection Question: When has focusing on practical action been more effective than intensifying prayer or spiritual discipline?