And why trying harder doesn’t bring peace
Some days, I feel like I’m living two different lives.
I believe in Jesus. I really do.
But then I catch myself moving through the day as if it’s all on me.
The pressure. The planning. The parenting. The performance.
It’s like I’m running on two systems—Spirit and self—both trying to lead, both demanding attention.
And the conflict between them? It’s not just theological.
It’s tiring.
We don’t mean to compartmentalize.
But we do.
We trust God with our church life but not our checkbook.
We pray over our kids but panic about their future.
We sing “Jesus take the wheel,” but keep a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel of our marriage, career, or reputation.
And when our lives are split between “sacred” and “secular,”
our peace fractures too.
When my soul starts glitching under the weight of decision-making and deadlines, I don’t always know what to call it.
But maybe… it’s fragmentation.
Not dramatic, not loud. Just a slow disintegration of trust.
A drift into compartments I thought I’d surrendered.
It’s in those moments I realize: this isn’t about trying harder to be spiritual.
It’s about remembering I’m held.
Even when I’m divided.
Even when I forget to invite Him into the spaces that feel “less sacred.”
God isn’t waiting for me to get it right.
He’s already here.
In the meeting.
In the mess.
In the silence after the kids go to bed.
He holds the places I haven’t yet figured out how to integrate.
And maybe the invitation isn’t to fix the fragmentation…
but to be honest about it.
To name it.
To bring it into the light where grace can begin to rethread what feels split.
Not a formula.
Just a slow, sincere return to the One who never leaves.
“The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.”
—Romans 8:6