Feb 07 2025
I Am Always Spiritual, But Never Always One Thing
For years, I lived under the weight of an assumption—that to be spiritual, I had to be engaged in something explicitly holy. That my connection to God was strongest when I was in prayer, in study, in silence. But what about the rest of my life? The moments of drive, of exhilaration, of pure, unfiltered being?
Then came the whisper.
"I’m still here."
Not in the expected places. Not in the quiet of morning devotion, nor in the solitude of deep contemplation. But in the middle of motion. In the laughter of my children. In the push of my muscles against resistance. In the sharp focus of strategy, in the pleasure of pursuit.
And suddenly, I understood what had always been true:
I am always spiritual because the Spirit of God is in me.
Not because I am praying. Not because I am reading the Bible. Not because I am in a state of theological reflection.
I am spiritual when I am fully engaged in life—because all of life belongs to Him.
The Work Does Not Define the Identity
"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men." —Colossians 3:23
I used to believe that my spirituality was tied to my role. That when I was teaching, I was a pastor. When I was coaching, I was a mentor. That my identity was linked to the work I was doing in the moment.
But I am not a pastor when I am cutting the grass. I am not a coach when I am with my wife. I am not a father when I am alone at the shooting range.
I am always me. But I am never always one thing.
Jesus was the Son of God whether He was preaching in the temple, turning over tables, or cooking fish over a fire. He did not cease to be who He was when He was laughing, when He was sleeping, when He was celebrating at a wedding.
The work does not define the identity. The identity defines the work.
When I am cutting the grass, I am not a pastor. I am a man cutting the grass. And that is enough.When I am at the range, I am not a father—unless my children are with me. And that is enough.When I am coaching men, I am not a grasscutter. And that is enough.
I do not have to carry every part of me into every moment.
"To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." —Ecclesiastes 3:1
This is freedom.
The Sacred and the Ordinary Are the Same in Christ
"So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." —1 Corinthians 10:31
There is no such thing as sacred work and ordinary work. There is only alignment and misalignment with truth.
We have created this false division—one that says prayer is spiritual, but laughter is not. That says fasting is spiritual, but strength is not. That says contemplation is spiritual, but joy is not.
But in Christ, everything is spiritual because I am spiritual.
Jesus did not live a divided life. He attended feasts. He engaged in deep theological debate. He made jokes. He rebuked. He cried. He got tired. He worked with His hands.
And He did it all in perfect communion with the Father.
Why should I live differently?
Why should I believe that I am more connected to God when I am on my knees than when I am fully alive in the moment He has given me?
Did He not create the joy of discovery? The thrill of movement? The satisfaction of mastery? The deep, burning desire to build, to explore, to create?
"For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving." —1 Timothy 4:4
There is no divide between sacred and ordinary. There is only awareness or blindness to the truth that all of life is His.
I Will Not Shrink Myself to Fit a Religious Mold
"For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." —Romans 14:17
For too long, I carried a false humility—one that told me I needed to quiet myself, to dim my passion, to be careful not to enjoy things too much.
For years, I lived under the weight of an assumption—that to be spiritual, I had to be engaged in something explicitly holy. That my connection to God was strongest when I was in prayer, in study, in silence. But what about the rest of my life? The moments of drive, of exhilaration, of pure, unfiltered being?
Then came the whisper.
"I’m still here."
Not in the expected places. Not in the quiet of morning devotion, nor in the solitude of deep contemplation. But in the middle of motion. In the laughter of my children. In the push of my muscles against resistance. In the sharp focus of strategy, in the pleasure of pursuit.
And suddenly, I understood what had always been true:
I am always spiritual because the Spirit of God is in me.
Not because I am praying. Not because I am reading the Bible. Not because I am in a state of theological reflection.
I am spiritual when I am fully engaged in life—because all of life belongs to Him.
The Work Does Not Define the Identity
"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men." —Colossians 3:23
I used to believe that my spirituality was tied to my role. That when I was teaching, I was a pastor. When I was coaching, I was a mentor. That my identity was linked to the work I was doing in the moment.
But I am not a pastor when I am cutting the grass. I am not a coach when I am with my wife. I am not a father when I am alone at the shooting range.
I am always me. But I am never always one thing.
Jesus was the Son of God whether He was preaching in the temple, turning over tables, or cooking fish over a fire. He did not cease to be who He was when He was laughing, when He was sleeping, when He was celebrating at a wedding.
The work does not define the identity. The identity defines the work.
When I am cutting the grass, I am not a pastor. I am a man cutting the grass. And that is enough.When I am at the range, I am not a father—unless my children are with me. And that is enough.When I am coaching men, I am not a grasscutter. And that is enough.
I do not have to carry every part of me into every moment.
"To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven." —Ecclesiastes 3:1
This is freedom.
The Sacred and the Ordinary Are the Same in Christ
"So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." —1 Corinthians 10:31
There is no such thing as sacred work and ordinary work. There is only alignment and misalignment with truth.
We have created this false division—one that says prayer is spiritual, but laughter is not. That says fasting is spiritual, but strength is not. That says contemplation is spiritual, but joy is not.
But in Christ, everything is spiritual because I am spiritual.
Jesus did not live a divided life. He attended feasts. He engaged in deep theological debate. He made jokes. He rebuked. He cried. He got tired. He worked with His hands.
And He did it all in perfect communion with the Father.
Why should I live differently?
Why should I believe that I am more connected to God when I am on my knees than when I am fully alive in the moment He has given me?
Did He not create the joy of discovery? The thrill of movement? The satisfaction of mastery? The deep, burning desire to build, to explore, to create?
"For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving." —1 Timothy 4:4
There is no divide between sacred and ordinary. There is only awareness or blindness to the truth that all of life is His.
I Will Not Shrink Myself to Fit a Religious Mold
"For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." —Romans 14:17
For too long, I carried a false humility—one that told me I needed to quiet myself, to dim my passion, to be careful not to enjoy things too much.