If I’m being honest, there are times I tell myself I’m “stuck”… but when I really slow down and examine it, I’m not truly stuck—I’m choosing. I’ve seen this play out in something as simple as eating. I’ll say, “I don’t have time to eat healthy,” or “It’s just hard to stay consistent.” But if I’m truthful, those aren’t full truths—they’re softened explanations. The reality is, sometimes I just want what I want. It’s easier, it’s convenient, and it satisfies me in the moment. So instead of calling it a choice, I call it a struggle. And as I sit with that, I realize this pattern doesn’t just affect my habits—it can quietly shape my relationship with God. That’s why when I look at the story in John 5, it begins to press on me in a deeper way. Jesus approaches a man who had been disabled for 38 years—thirty-eight years of waiting, hoping, and living in the same condition. And when Jesus asks him, “Would you like to get well?” (John 5:6, NLT), the man doesn’t simply say yes. Instead, he explains why he hasn’t been healed—no one helps him, others get there first, the opportunity always slips away. And as I hear that, it sounds familiar, because I’ve done the same thing. I’ve given explanations instead of making decisions. I’ve pointed to circumstances instead of taking ownership. So Jesus cuts straight through it all and says, “Stand up, pick up your mat, and walk!” (John 5:8, NLT). In an instant, the man is healed. No delay, no process—just the power of Jesus. But what happens next is just as important as the miracle itself. The man is confronted by the Jewish leaders for carrying his mat on the Sabbath, and when they question him, he doesn’t point them to Jesus. Instead, he says he doesn’t know who healed him. Whether he truly didn’t know or simply avoided saying it, the result is the same—he doesn’t identify Jesus in that moment. And at first, that might seem harmless. But as the story continues, Jesus later finds him in the temple and says, “Now you are well; so stop sinning, or something even worse may happen to you.” (John 5:14, NLT). That’s a direct call to change. Not just healing—but transformation. Not just relief—but responsibility.

Lately, life has felt busy. I’ve been on the road a lot—burning up the highway, going from place to place for work. The days are full, the schedule is packed, and the miles just keep adding up. And somewhere in the middle of it all, a question hit me: Am I really going anywhere? Not physically—I know where the GPS is taking me. But spiritually… purposefully… eternally… am I actually moving forward? It’s easy to confuse movement with progress. The world celebrates being busy. Full calendars, constant motion, always on the go. But Scripture gives us a different lens: “What do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?” — Mark 8:36 (NLT) That verse stops me in my tracks. Because it reminds me that I can be doing a lot… and still missing what matters most. Even good things—work, responsibilities, providing for family—can slowly crowd out the best thing: walking closely with Christ. Jesus also gives us this invitation: “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28 (NLT) Notice He doesn’t say, “Finish your to-do list first.” He says, come to Me. That means even in the middle of the highway… Even between meetings… Even in the busiest seasons… We are called to pause and realign. Because the goal isn’t just to move fast— It’s to move in the right direction. Proverbs puts it this way: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart… Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” — Proverbs 3:5–6 (NLT) That’s the difference. I don’t just want to go somewhere… I want to go where God is leading. So today, maybe the question isn’t, “How busy am I?” Maybe it’s: “Am I walking with God in the middle of my busy?” Because you can be on the highway of life… and still be exactly where you’re supposed to be— if you’re walking with Him. Prayer Lord, In the middle of my busy life, help me to slow my heart down before You. When I’m rushing from place to place, remind me to stay grounded in Your presence.