Dear White Pastors, It's Not Too Late To Change Your Sermon

Dear White Pastors,

It’s not too late to toss your planned sermon and spend this Sunday morning naming, lamenting and leading your people to engage in anti-racism. 

You already recorded your Sunday sermon? It’s okay. Switch to Facebook live. Use social media to let people know. Speak the names of George Floyd, Breonna  Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and others who have been murdered. Lead with boldness and courage. Name, lament, pray, repent, challenge and invite your people to walk in the way of Jesus.

People will be offended? Yes, many white congregants will feel offended or uncomfortable, but it has never been your job to make your congregation feel comfortable. The discomfort which emerges is a natural response to spiritual challenge and to an invitation to spiritual growth and transformation. Discomfort is a good thing. It is a catalyst for discipleship and change if you continue to lead them. I assure you no discomfort your white congregants feel is greater than that of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland, Philando Castile and all those whose lives were taken. I assure you, no discomfort your white congregants feel will be greater than the discomfort and pain congregants of color experience in our deafening, violent silence and continued inaction.

People aren’t ready? Your white congregants, many of them, will never be ready. This is why you MUST lead, disciple and shepherd your flock. There will never be a “perfect time” which will reduce the discomfort of discussing racism. The “perfect time” is a myth which is rooted in the idol of comfort. Jesus doesn’t call us to a faith that is comfortable. Jesus calls us to a love, relationship and an active faith that is radically, counter-cultural and selfless. Our Christian birthright is discomfort as we live out the radical love, hope, generosity, mercy, and grace of Jesus in the relentless pursuit of Shalom.

You don’t know where to begin? It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to fill an hour. It can be 20 minutes. It can be 10 minutes. Do it afraid. Do it imperfectly, but DO name this demonic sin of racism, repent, lament, intercede and stand in solidarity with our brothers and sisters of color. Do sit, linger in lament for the time it deserves. Do pray for the wisdom and courage to find a new way forward. Do let this be the beginning of a new way of worshipping in unity and solidarity every single day as you pursue justice. Do let this be the beginning of discipling your people in anti-racism. If you are already doing the work of anti-racism in your church, do commit your hearts to following Jesus and overcoming this evil again and chose to commit yourself to this pursuit, surrendering to Christ, each day.

Don’t let your silence become violence to someone’s soul this Sunday. I can assure, no topic you’ve picked is more important than this. 

Praying for you this Sunday as you speak up, use your influence and lead your people.

It’s Time,

Kim 

Picture Credit: Joshua Cotton

90 Days Unafraid: Day 1, Confetti and Debris: What I learned in 90 Days of Intentional Living

Day 1. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Day 1: intentional living

As I stood in the confetti and debris of the first 9 months of 2019, I struggled to make sense of its polarity. My body, mind and soul ached from cognitive whiplash. Life was filled with both beauty and devastation in their extremes. I was profoundly aware of one thing: I had stopped feeling as a way of coping.

It was practical. It allowed me to be a workhorse—something I am very gifted at in healthy and unhealthy ways. It allowed me to keep moving when stopping meant I would have to acknowledge my grief, powerlessness and empowerment. But sadly, it also prevented me from being totally present to God, others and myself. (I say this without condemnation or shame, as we truly do the best we can in any given moment. It had simply become clear that I was no longer doing my best, I was really avoiding life and ducking for fear more debris would come flying through the air.) So after listening and prayer, I chose to “wake up” and be present—to live each of the final 90 days of 2019 on purpose.

My goals were my own: write more, be present to my body and soul, be present to children and husband, and feel my feelings all the way through. Outside of these goals, I committed to keeping my hands open to what God would place before me—to listen and respond, being present to God.

When this started, I wasn’t sure why I felt such a strong invitation to write. What did I even have to say? “I am pissed with God right now, and I don’t freaking get any of this!” The truth is, 90 days ago, that is where it began and ended for me: anger and confusion.  Words on the screen were often typed on a tear-soaked keyboard at 3am when slowing and reflection allowed my true self to emerge and guttural groans and tears carried my prayers. I began to slow, awaken to the present, to God, others and myself, and reflect on my day, week or month in ways my soul desperately needed. Through imperfect grammar, misspellings, punctuations areas and intentional fragments, the devastation didn’t always make sense, but I began to awaken to what I felt about it. Sometimes I found deep sadness and confusion, sometimes anger or grief and at times, even hope. I began to find God in the mess.

As writing helped me awaken to my feelings, I began to get out of my head where I lived trying to make sense of the confetti and debris, the joy, and moreover, the injustice and loss. I lived in a constant flurry of thoughts trying to fix things and make everything “okay” in a season where things would never be “okay” as I had envisioned. Writing became a sacred practice, through which God helped me to embrace reality. Accept what was/is, and let go of that which was out of my control.

Awakening to my emotions and surrendering all that which I was working so hard to control and fix, opened my hands truly be present to my children and my husband. I began to hear their words…fully. We began to laugh together, grieve together, dream together, pick through the confetti and the debris together. In surrendering and feeling, I began to regain my capacity to be present to those who matter most in my life and grab hold of the power I do have to love them imperfectly, but well, each day.

We often forget about the physical aspects of joy and devastation. They are two extremes which evoke an embodied response. We jump for joy, and we are overwhelmed by grief. We feel them in our bones. They require energy. They take all our attention, and they demand rest and recovery. So, I cancelled meetings, stayed in, went out when I needed company, listened and responded to what would bring me life. In returning and rest, I indeed found peace and energy for another day.

I am still sorting through the confetti and the debris of 2019, and 2020 will certainly come with its own. Many nights, my keyboard or pillow are still soaked at 3am. That is a part of this season, but 90 days later through the joys and devastation, confetti and debris, I am more aware of my limitations and God’s limitlessness. My hands are more open to receive love and give love through surrendering that which is out of my control, and I am more present to my husband and my children. Importantly, I feel less alone, as I now see God with me more often than not in my anger, grief and confusion. Amidst all the confetti, joy, loss and debris, I am finding there is really a lot of love and life being given to me. I end these 90 days with gratitude for the journey, and once again I’m finding the God who seemed so far away is still right here with me.

May your eyes be opened to see the God who is with you in the confetti and debris, in the joy and loss, who is big enough for your anger and questions, is ever-present to you in 2020. Peace, love and care for your New Year.

90 Days Unafraid: Day 10, A Birthday Do-Over, Practicing Presence with Self

Day 10. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Day 10: practicing presence with self.

For me each birthday is an opportunity to reflect on the previous year. This year on December 17th, the process was no different. How have I lived this last year? Did I live and love other’s well? What happened? What brought joy? What brought mourning? Did I really LIVE?

As I dug into these questions, there was one looming question I really had to address, and if I am honest, as a recovering perfectionist and a solid, achieving enneagram 3, it is kinda tough to write about. Well…

HOW DID I LIVE AN ENTIRE YEAR THINKING I WAS ONE YEAR OLDER THAN I AM?

Yes, yes, many of us have moments we forget how many years we’ve been out of school, married, been at a job, or state our age incorrectly, etc. These things happen. But how did I do this for AN ENTIRE YEAR OF MY LIFE?! I knew I needed to process.

What happened this year? It was a year filled with significant transitions, some crises, significant losses and so much good. My way of coping amidst the stress, was to lean in and care for those around me. Is the organization okay? Are the kids okay? Is everyone else okay? What can I do to make sure their feelings and experience are acknowledged so they know they are not alone?

A Year in Review

• I transitioned out of a job I had been in for nearly 8 years . A good change, healthy change, but still a change with loss, nonetheless. We also navigated a number of vocational changes with my husband. Our choices involved risk, required stretching faith, but God has been faithful in meeting us.

• As I moved into my new career, I coached over 350 women and men, one-on-one, in small group settings and through intimate workshops. What an amazing, life-giving gift to see hope as women and men awaken to working as the “blessed alliance.” Their stories were also heartbreaking.

• I traveled to Alaska to learn about the good work God is doing to empower women there and led a workshop on embracing one’s power in leadership—a beautiful trip I am still processing, which opened my eyes to the very, very recent and present atrocities committed to our indigenous brothers and sisters in missionary boarding schools. I was very aware of the atrocities before the trip, but learning from survivors made the nearness of these atrocities very real.

• I was diagnosed with cancer, given the all-clear, and then had the all clear revoked. I entered 6 months of limbo regarding next steps. Yes, I am well. They got it all. Now, standard followup.

• I had one month of vocal rest after the surgery in which they found the cancer, navigated the healing process and had to face my fears that my voice may not fully heal and public speaking may no longer be a part of my life. Thankfully my voice did heal well, and two months post-surgery, my first speaking engagement was at a World Relief staff, soul-care day—less than 24 hours after my doctor gave me permission to speak publicly. The summer provided other opportunities to encourage people through public speaking also. Truly a great gift for which I am immensely grateful.

• I was in the room when Jo Saxton, someone who has deeply impacted my life, spoke at the Global Leadership Summit. I received texts from women and, in particular, women of color, who were encouraged by Jo’s talk because seeing a representation of one’s self on stage in addition to amazing content, really, really matters.

• Just as my voice fully healed, I was misinformed my Multiple Sclerosis was out of remission and rapidly progressing. Devastating news, which required push back and months of advocacy to fully clear up and ensure my medical team (all the right players) for this part of my journey were in place. I am fully in remission and thriving.

• I navigated my first Thanksgiving without my mama present. I am still acknowledging the change and loss of expectations, dreams that come with aging, and the anger I feel in my grief.

• I started a podcast with my friend, Gladys Goeringer—a project we talked about for years. Next week, the Pursuit of Peace Podcast will officially wrap up season 1. In a world that can be discouraging, I feel good about what we are sharing. It is our little way of inviting Shalom at every level: in our lives, our families, our communities and our world.

• My children needed me, and I had the margin to respond, to dig deep, to be present and to advocate for them in ways they needed.

• I had the margin to take my son to a dance audition, saw him make his first dance company and watched him dance his first show and publicly show off his moon walk.

• For the first time in years, I was able to attend every game of my daughter’s volleyball season. This won’t always happen, but this year it did. This year she needed it to happen.

• I watched, continue to watch, a beloved family member go toe-to-toe with cancer again. I am humbled by the ways she called me throughout her battle this summer, to check-in on my battles.

As I reviewed my year, the question remained…

How did I live an entire year thinking I was one year older than I am?

With reflection, it was because I began my year over-functioning, over-producing, over-thinking, over, over, over-doing pretty much everything. I lived an entire year thinking I was older than I am because I didn’t slow last year to be present to the needs of my soul regularly, to reflect on the year previously lived or to even really celebrate the gift of another year of life. Instead, I pressed toward Christmas, pressed into the needs of those around me—something good to do, but something not so good to do when you ignore your own emotional, spiritual and physical needs in the process. The truth is, over-functioning and keeping an external focus, even when navigating my own health issues, allowed me to maintain some distance from my fears, my sadness, my longings, my grief. It was a coping mechanism that allowed me to make it through, but it wasn’t coping that invited me to thrive, to really feel and to acknowledge the fullness of who I am in the neat and tidy AND the messy, hard and broken.

When I realized I had lived an entire year thinking I was older, I felt like I had lost a year of my life. But when I calmed down my recovering perfectionist self, I realized I get a birthday do-over. I get to live my 39th year of life “again.” This time, amidst whatever ups and downs, battles and victories that come, I can choose to be present to my physical, emotional and spiritual needs, and in so doing, bring a rested, acknowledged, well-taken care of love and care to others—one that slows instead of over-functions, one that empowers others instead of over-doing it for them, one that is far less anxious and far more present and responds instead of reacts. So, here is to a do-over year dripping with grace, mercy and self-compassion for all that lies ahead! Happy 39th birthday, Kim…again.

Action Steps: Every year, every single day, every moment, is a moment we can chose a “do-over.” Easily angered? Over-working? Not taking care of yourself? Whatever it may be, you get a do-over. There will be another moment in which you can choose patience over easily triggered anger. There will be another moment when you can choose to rest instead of work, trusting it will be okay. There will be another moment where you can choose to schedule a counseling appointment, take a walk to de-stress or drink a glass of water because its good for your body.

Slow and reflect. What patterns in your life need tending to? Is there a default out of which you operate that needs to be released, with self-compassion and mercy, so that you may step toward God’s abundant life for you? Write it down. Pray about it. Share it with a friend. With self-compassion, choose a do-over, and live differently next time. There is grace to try, grace to succeed, grace to fail and grace for another do-over.

Photo Credit: Kim Whetstone, Birthday 2019.

90 Days Unafraid: Day 25, Advent Mourning & Longing, Feeling All The Way Through

Day 25. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Day 25: feeling all the way through.

Thanksgiving was hard. Things changed. Someone I loved was missing from the kitchen, the table, the evening coffee talk in the living room, the hello and goodbye hugs, the play with the kids in the pasture. There was no apple crumble pie or favorite stuffing. I never did learn how to make the crumble right. I brought the cranberry sauce she taught me to make. Would she have liked the addition of fresh cinnamon? There was no talking about life as we rolled out pie dough, no joking about nonsense as we prepared the meal, no shared stories from years gone by because…change. Thanksgiving didn’t feel the same. Things changed. 

We left after sundown to make the three-hour drive back home. The chatter of my kiddos ceased as the ambient hum of the car lulled them to sleep. In silence it came—tears racing tracks down my cheeks, the absence of words. Anger? Sadness? Loss? I could not distinguish. It just hurt. For 2.5 hours tears raced. No words. Just pain. Tears came. Sometimes I don’t like change. 

“Go to bed. Goodnight. I love you! See you in the morning!” I wrapped my arms around my kiddos. Held them tight and kissed their cheeks and the tops of their heads. Lights out. 

Silence. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. No words. Just pain. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out.

Pain. 

“Kim, are you okay?” 

“No. No I’m not.” 

No words. Just pain. Tears came, racing tracks down my cheeks. 

“I miss her smile. I miss her knowing who I am. I miss her jokes. I miss talking to her about life. I miss the light in her eyes, and I hate seeing it dim. I hate this. I. Hate. This. I know the world is not just, but I don’t get this. I don’t.” 

Thanksgiving was hard this year. Things didn’t feel the same. Things changed. Change. 

Action Steps: Over the last few weeks, a season of sickness was followed with an invitation to a season of mourning. I am not so good at mourning. It makes me feel powerless. It invites me to acknowledge my humanity, the fragility of this world, of life, of me. I try to avoid it, but it bubbles up. It demands acknowledgement, and it invites me to feel all the way through—not only tears, but laughter, love, loss, life and longing. 

Advent reminds us that God comes to us in the in-between, wilderness spaces of life, where loss and longing are brought to light. It invites us to ask, “Where in my life do I long to know Jesus as Immanuel, “God with us” (God with me), in this season? Advent invites us to feel that longing all the way through. 

Where are you longing to experience God with you in this season? Name it. Talk to God about it. Take your longing to God and allow yourself to feel your feelings all the way through in the presence of a God who loves us (you), comes to us (you), and draws near to us (you). Where do you long for hope in your life?

“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: 

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel.”

Isaiah 7:14

90 Days Unafraid: Day 42, Launching A Podcast, Walking in Obedience

Days 42. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Days 42: walking in obedience.

A couple years ago, my friend, Gladys Goeringer and I, began to reflect on what we were seeing in the world and hearing in our communities. As news stories of racism, sexism, and xenophobia compounded discouragement, day after day, we began to observe people, who were typically mobilized toward activism, exhausted, discouraged and immobilized. The truth is, we were exhausted ourselves.

As we watched the news, listened to all the differing political opinions, listened to muslim refugees who were afraid to walk near churches for fear they would be beaten or their hijabs would be ripped off the heads*, and we saw profound injustice, we began to ask, “Where do we all come together?” Our answer? Peace. We believed at the core of it all was a desire for individuals to have peace in their families, communities and world.

We dreamed up the idea of The Pursuit of Peace Podcast with the goal of helping people move toward peace or biblical Shalom. Biblical peace,Shalom, is about peace, completeness, wholeness in every sphere of life. It is about having greater peace in ourselves and our homes and also establishing just systems in our neighborhoods and world. It is about believing God is still moving and knowing we have an active role in bringing peace, justice, transformation and hope in our world today.

So over the past few weeks, as I have been horribly sick, between sips of gatorade and NyQuil, my energy has gone into walking in obedience and stepping toward this vision God placed on my heart and Gladys’ heart a few years ago. So, today, we do our part in bringing Shalom through conversation and practical next steps. I invite you to join us in the journey with The Pursuit of Peace Podcast. You can listen on Apple Podcast, Spotify or anywhere you listen to your podcast.

This Fall we begin by exploring practical ways we can pursue peace during the holidays, but as we leap into 2020, we will expand this conversation. You can check us out at www.thepursuitofpeacepodcast.com. Follow us on instagram @thepursuitofpeacepodcast and let us know your thoughts. Let us know what conversations you’d like to hear through our contact forms on my website or our podcast website.

*This is sadly a true account of what occurred in our suburban Chicago community. This the experience of friends of some refugee friends.

Actions Steps: What desires has God placed on your heart? What is one small step today you can take to make that dream a reality? It may take a few years as it has for us, but if the desire or the dream is still there, it is not too late. Take one step today!

90 Days Unafraid: Days 53, 52 & 51, Sick and Grateful, Gratitude

Days 53, 52 & 51. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Days 53, 52 & 51: gratitude.

Not much will be said here, as I am still sick with cold and flu. But as I have been ill, I am profoundly grateful to my husband and kiddos, who are amazing. My daughter offered to walk to the grocery store, buy groceries and cook dinner-so neither my husband nor I would have to worry about it. My husband took care of everything while I was quarantined in our bedroom—as he always does. My son patiently waited for us to decorate the Christmas tree until last night—something he has really wanted to do since July. Additionally, he kept dropping by with hugs and a “Are you okay, Mama?”

I am so grateful for this family of mine. It is hard to think we have only 6 more Christmases until our oldest journeys off to college and 8 Christmases before our youngest does the same. This time is truly a gift. I am deeply grateful for it.

* FYI, we don’t top our tree with a Santa head. Our children pulled the head off my son’s mini Santa, and thought it hilarious to top the tree with him. Having a mini Santa, well, that’s another story entirely!

90 Days Unafraid: Day 56, 55 & 54, Colds, FOMO & Receiving Rest

Day 56 & 55. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Day 56 & 55: receiving rest. 

I entered day two with my son curled up on the couch, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching. It was our first cold of the school year, and our quick action to listen to his body and move toward rest meant he was experiencing a speedy recovery. Yes, there were projects he was missing at school, but nothing was more important than giving his body space to rest, heal and recover. 

Yesterday, after getting him off to school, my body began to ache. By 3:00pm, I was vacillating between chills and fever. My throat hurt with each swallow. Immediately, I looked at my calendar. I have sooo much to do!!! What will I miss out on if I rest? How many appointments will I have to cancel? If I cancel that meeting, will the opportunity come again? By the time all those questions had tumbled around in my brain for a while, I had calculated how much medicine I needed to power through the days, how many weeks I could make it running on fumes and counted the days until Thanksgiving break when I could breathe and truly rest. 

Sometimes we get sick, our bodies hurt, life is crazy, and we have to power through because it is just what the season demands. But often, if we are honest with ourselves, the things that will be put on hold to tend to our bodies can truly wait Often what keeps us from resting is a fear of missing out (FOMO). Sometimes it is a fear of missing out on an experience or an opportunity, but more often than not, the thing we fear we will miss out on is another moment to prove our value, our worth, our significance, our importance or our fortitude within an organization or relationship. More times than I can count, I have “powered through” because I felt as a woman in leadership, a mom or a wife, I couldn’t show weakness or let people know I needed rest…yes, I couldn’t let people know I was human, finite. It sounds different when I say it that way, “I couldn’t let people know I was human…finite.” How quickly we try to throw off our humanity and our God-given, holy, sacred need to rest and recover!

When we go to Genesis, we are given a glimpse of humanity before the fall. Men and women leading, subduing, stewarding the earth together in harmony. We witness this beautiful relationship between God and created humanity that is unfettered. But what we also witness is rest. Often when we think of the biblical accounts of creation, we mentally place rest as a result of the fall, as if our need for rest only came to fruition after we made some bad choices and all hell broke loose. When this thinking is the foundation of our theology(our understanding of God) and our theological anthropology (what it means to be human in relation to God), then rest and physical, emotional and spiritual limitation is something which we must then throw off and overcome…something we must power through. However, it is crucial that we remember the Sabbath was created on the seventh day. Before there is any talk of the fall of humanity, we are first given a day of rest.

Embracing Sabbath rest, or any need we have to rest, and embracing our need to delight, rest, recover, worship and enjoy, is a part of our God-given DNA. When we listen to the limitations of our body, set aside our fear of missing out, and truly believe we serve a God of abundance and not a God of scarcity, we can lay down our fears, our driving need prove ourselves or our driving need to be present for everyone and everything, we can learn to receive the ways God is present to us in rest. 

So, as I downed some Nyquil, I sent a series of emails, knowing things can be rescheduled. The kiddos nibbled on store bought sandwiches, and I leaned into rest. The meetings and opportunities will be there when I recover, and I’ll have the energy I need. But for know, for today, I chill in my jammies, watch Netflix, and sleep, of beautiful sleep, as I acknowledge that nothing is more important than giving my body, my spirit and my mind time to rest, heal and recover. 

ACTION STEPS: Reflect. Is rest or slowing hard or easy for you? What does it mean to you that in the creation account before humanity did a thing, God invited us to rest? Where is God inviting you to rest today? 

Picture credit: Kelly Sikkema

90 Days Unafraid: Days 59, 58 & 57, Answers to Prayer, Taking Small Steps

Day 59, 58 & 57. I have chosen to live intentionally toward the goals, dreams and desires God has placed on my heart for the last 90 days of this year, pressing past fear, excuses and discomfort toward fullness of life as we countdown to 2020. Day 59, 58 & 57: taking small steps. 

Sunday morning I awakened to a text, “The small choices we make have the power to change the direction of our entire life. Praying for you. The Lord is with you.” Some words of encouragement leave us speechless. 

Nearly nine months have passed since I left my full-time pastoral position. As with all pastoral work, it is filled with beauty, mess, redemption, loss, life, salvation and transformation. My very last day was nearly 15 hours and included conducting a funeral for the father of a dear friend, wrapping up final details with my direct reports and volunteers, and doing my best to transition well a church, a people, I deeply loved. I can say with integrity I gave it everything I had until the very end. 

Leaving full-time pastoral work has come with moments of deep gratitude and deep mourning. Yet, over the last nine months, God has been faithful with my obedient and at times frightened, “Yes, God.” Over the last nine months I have been able to coach, train and equip over 300 female leaders from across the U.S.—a gift a could have never envisioned my final day at church. Each day has been filled with small choices to build, to risk, to trust, to walk in faith. 

As I curled up in bed Saturday night, I was asking God, “Do these small choices REALLY matter? Is the risk all worth it?” So when my dear friend, mentor and spiritual advisor, having no idea what I had prayed the night before texted, “The small choices we make have the power to change the direction of our entire life. Praying for you. The Lord is with you.” It was a direct answer to prayer. It was the encouragement I needed. So, the last few days have been filled with “small choices” that will indeed make a world of difference. 

ACTION STEPS: One of the “small choices” I have made over the past few days was to schedule all the doctor appointments I needed to schedule before the end of the year—9 in total for my children and me. My small choice was to remember and act upon caring for this body God has given me, knowing it is in and through this body the work of ministry and life takes place. 

What small choice are you making today to step toward God’s best for you? Maybe its rewriting your resume, going to counseling, scheduling those doctor visits you’ve been avoiding or planning a vacation for some much needed rest. Slow. Reflect. Make one small choice in the right direction.