Raspberry Iced M

In September, I gave myself a simple assignment: Learn something knew every day.

And I did.

Some days, what I learned was practical.
Some days, it was spiritual.
Some days, it was meaningful.
Somedays, it was something completely random that will probably never improve my life, but may make me surprisingly useful during a very specific category of Jeopardy or a trivia boardgame.

I learned about the Bible.
I learned about people.
Fun facts about topics that interest me.
Things about myself that were considerably less “fun.”

I paid attention.
Asked questions.
Collected information.

And by the end of the month, I realized that knowing more isn’t necessarily the same thing as progression.

So October has a different assignment. This month, I want to practice what I’ve learned.

Knowledge is the easy part. I love learning. Give me a question and access to information and I will happily disappear down a rabbit hole. I love understanding why. Why do I behave this way? Why does my brain do that? What does this Bible verse actually mean? Why did that bother me? What is the healthiest response? What’s the difference between guilt and shame? Between rest and avoidance? Between reflection and rumination? Between love and control?

Understanding things makes me feel like I’m growing. And sometimes I am. But I can become incredibly knowledgeable about a problem…

…and continue doing the exact same thing. I can understand a pattern without breaking it. I can identify a trigger and still react to it. I can recognize that I’m ruminating and continue doing it. I can know that someone’s opinion doesn’t determine my worth and still spend three hours trying to change their opinion. I can understand that I cannot control another person and still mentally construct seventeen strategies for controlling an outcome.

Apparently, my brain can receive a memo without ever forwarding it to the rest of me.

Knowing isn’t the finish line.

“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” – James 1:22.

Instant conviction.

Because I can study Scripture all day. Underline it. Highlight it. Write it in my journal. Research the historical context. Write a blog post about it. Put it in my own handwriting beside a tiny pumpkin in my bullet journal.

But eventually…I have to live it. And even as much as I have tried – in the last year – the goal this month is to focus on intentional execution.

Truth that never reaches behavior is just information.

October is about the gap. The gap that exists between what I know and what I do.

I think everyone has one. And mine is much smaller in some places than it used to be. But in others…I have some work to do.

My therapist says I am one of the most self-aware patients she has ever treated…

…and that’s not a compliment.

Noticing something and then giving in to every urge that wants to circle back to the “analyzing” phase is my brain’s way of stalling action. To notice a feeling is one thing. To sit in it for hours and hours – trying to make sense of it before moving on – is delay. My feelings matter just like everyone else’s. But feelings are information, not instructions. So I don’t have to act on every one.

I can feel rejected without chasing reassurance.
I can be angry without sending the text.
I can feel afraid without shrinking or retreating.
I can feel guilty without staring at my own reflection…berating myself.
I can miss someone without trying to force closeness.
I can feel uncomfortable…
…and remain uncomfortable.
Because discomfort does not automatically require action.
Sometimes it is enough to acknowledge a feeling…and then fold laundry.

If I believe in grace, I have to practice grace. And that means I have to include myself. I am very comfortable believing that other people are complicated human beings. They have histories, wounds, bad coping mechanisms. They’ve made poor choices. They have their own set of weaknesses. And I can look at someone else’s worst moments and still understand that isn’t his/her whole identity. And then I look at myself and all nuance leaves the building. I do believe I am held to a much higher standard by others than they even place upon themselves. In a math equation, there are so many people in my life who – from a human perspective – have committed acts much more harmful than mine – and yet I am the one who gets rejected. Abandoned. Judged. Criticized. And maybe it is for that reason that I struggle with grace. October is about practicing the grace I claim to believe in. Not excusing myself. Not minimizing harm. Not rewriting history. But refusing to believe that accountability requires permanent self-contempt. I have learned the different. Now I have to walk like I believe it.

If I believe He is trustworthy, I have to loosen my grip on things that make me feel secure. I have to stop interfering. I know He is in control. I say I trust His timing. I speak prayers of surrender daily. And then five minutes later I’m in agony over a situation I already gave to Him. Trust isn’t something I exercise by writing it in my journal. Sometimes it looks like waiting. Leaving someone alone. Letting an unanswered question remain unanswered. Accepting that I cannot see everything God is doing. And resisting the urge to grab back what I already relinquished.

If I believe in forgiveness, I have to forgive.
If I believe my words matter, I have to speak up when necessary and keep my mouth shut otherwise.
If I believe I am responsible for my choices, I have to make the right ones.

October is about repetition. I didn’t expect to wake up this morning and suddenly behave perfectly according to all I’ve learned. That is not how habits work and it’s not how character works. Sanctification is about rinsing and repeating. I want the things I am learning to move from my journal into my calendar. My conversations. My reactions. My spending. My relationships. My thought patterns. My marriage. My work. My ordinary Tuesdays. And that is where I hope knowledge will eventually become wisdom.

If September answered the daily questions, “What did I learn today?” then I want October’s daily question to be “What did I do with what I learned?” And I think that is the question I need right now.

Because I have learned a lot. About myself. About God. My patterns. Love. Shame. Control. Thoughts. Forgiveness. Peace. And about what kind of person I want to become.

Now comes the less glamorous part…practice.

Again…
…and again…
…and again…
…until something that once required enormous intention begins to come more naturally. Until the things I believe start showing up in the way I live. Until knowledge becomes wisdom. Until lessons become habits.

Until seeds become fruitful.

And when I eventually look back at this season, I hope I can see evidence that something grew here.

May the harvest show what I have been cultivating.