The Lord is always working in my heart.
The following is not meant to be a post about “I” but in matters of the heart I know no other heart as purely and as thoroughly as mine.
I hope that you read this introspectively and that it brings questions to light that perhaps you have let sit quietly in the backdrop without proper address.
A Light Inside
I worry about being too soft as a man—hesitant to speak truth or tempted to tiptoe around it—so that I fail to guide those who, like me, can be arrogant in their ignorance.
I don’t want to slip through life unnoticed.
Instead, I want to walk so straight that when I meet someone, my life nudges theirs toward the same alignment.
As Paul urged, I long to “speak the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15), not shrinking back from the truth yet never wielding it as a weapon.
I have no desire to wound without purpose.
Question for the Heart
Wouldn’t it be easier to simply go through life without engaging?
This question rings in my head, often after an encounter that leaves me uncomfortable—wondering whether I made a mistake and did more harm than good.
I wrestle with the thought: Is this my conscience, or are outside forces trying to silence the strength within me out of fear of rejection?
What is the True of a Truth
A truth that steadies me in difficult, confusing times is to ask, What is true?
I arrive at that question often, yet it leaves me wondering whether I am meant to be the catalyst or whether I myself need to awaken to some truth I am missing.
Sometimes it is both.
Potters Wheel
I know God is shaping me—molding me into a tool for His purpose.
My local church helps me bear fruit in righteousness, and my wife assists in that sanctification as she listens attentively to the Holy Spirit.
I wish only that, if my presence causes pain, it would be the kind that awakens deeper thought, stirring a search for God—“for godly sorrow produces a repentance without regret, leading to salvation” (2 Corinthians 7:10).
What Nature Is This?
God gave me a stubborn nature, and it often pushes people to adjust their own behavior—at least when they are in my presence.
Yet I also recognize that this same stubborn, almost immovable way of thinking may cause some to shy away from deeper engagement with me.
I do not always respond in love. Just the other day, I called a man a moron, and I knew instantly that my words did not reflect the patience and grace I aspire to show.
I still wonder whether I truly accomplish the aim my heart longs for.
Aligning Frameworks
I also recognize that personalities, worldviews, and personal perspectives—the intricate inner workings of life—often collide with those who carry a different framework.
A few things I have begun to study are the different ways people interact with me.
I wish I knew more of how others experience this same phenomenon.
I do not like to put people in boxes, so please recognize that I am not placing the whole of an individual’s identity into the following categories, but rather drilling down to a set of reactions and perspectives I have observed in my interactions with others:
The Ambiguous Aggressor: The person who hears a comment, engages, and yet has no intention of educating or learning—but is rather entertained by the success of causing frustration without any intention of help or harm.
The Unhelpful Helper: The one who desires only to help, yet has no input or guidance to give, and listens and agrees like artificial intelligence.
The Aggressive Defender: One who defends something as if everything spoken is in opposition to the foundation of their makeup.
The Deaf Listener: One who pretends to listen but responds as though they didn’t hear anything and, in fact, has lost the entire context of the conversation.
Recognize
Now I realize that the only way I have an understanding of these things is because they are what I see in the mirror.
To claim that I only see them in others is intellectually dishonest, for the only way a person can have understanding of the mind entirely is to reflect upon their own in comparison with outward observations.
Recognizing these patterns in others has taught me as much about myself as it has about them.
When I encounter an ambiguous aggressor, I am reminded of my own moments of impatience or quick judgment.
When I see an unhelpful helper, I confront my own tendencies to offer shallow responses rather than meaningful guidance.
The aggressive defender and the deaf listener reflect the ways I can resist correction or fail to truly hear the Spirit at work in others.
Scripture reminds me that this reflection is not for condemnation, but for growth: “Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves” (2 Corinthians 13:5).
Molding the Moldy
God uses these moments to mold me, showing me both the areas where I need correction and the ways my presence can serve as a tool for His purposes.
I am learning that it is not enough to merely see these behaviors in others; I must also allow God to examine my own heart, to refine the stubbornness, the immovability, and the blind spots that hinder both my relationships and my walk with Him.
Watch your Steps
It is in this crucible of reflection, challenge, failure, and prayer that the Lord shapes my character, teaching me to speak truth in love, to guide without pride, and to live in a way that draws others toward God rather than away from Him.
Ultimately, I desire that my life be a reflection of God’s truth and love, a presence that challenges gently, encourages thoughtfully, and points consistently toward Him.
My stubborn nature, my reflections on human behavior, my failures, and my observations of myself are all tools in God’s hands—tools to shape me into someone who walks straight and leaves a mark of righteousness on those I meet.
Excellence in Christ is a attainable Prize
I do not seek perfection, nor do I assume that I will always guide well.
But I am committed to the process of being refined, tested, corrected, and humbled, trusting that even my failures can serve as lessons for others and opportunities for God’s work to be displayed.
If my words or my presence bring discomfort, let it be discomfort that prompts reflection, repentance, and a deeper awareness of God’s truth.
In the end, it is not about how I am seen by others, but how faithfully I allow the Lord to work in and through me—so that every encounter becomes a chance for life to be straightened, hearts to be stirred, and God to be glorified.
Do you experience similar struggles?
How does your mind process the interactions around you?
Let me know in the comments.
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