Bright Shiny Objects

Learning to Recognize Redirection
from My Own Restlessness

There is something intoxicating about a new idea.

Maybe it’s because new ideas don’t have history yet. They haven’t disappointed us, or become difficult. They haven’t required discipline or patience or the slow, ordinary work of showing up day after day when no one is applauding.

I’ve noticed something about myself over the years. Every time the work I’m currently doing becomes difficult, another idea quietly wanders by.

Maybe I should start a different business.

Maybe I should write a different book.

Maybe I should launch something new.

Maybe this isn’t really what God meant after all…

It’s amazing how spiritual those thoughts can sound, but I’ve begun to wonder if some of what we call “seeking God’s direction” is sometimes just our discomfort with the middle.

The beginning of anything is exciting. The vision is clear, the possibilities seem endless, and if we focus hard enough, we can almost see the finish line before we’ve taken the first step.

Then comes the middle, where enthusiasm gives way to commitment. The work becomes repetitive, growth slows down, and the audience never arrives as quickly as we’d hoped. The middle is where we begin to wonder if we misheard God altogether.

And that is precisely when the bright shiny objects begin to sparkle.

I don’t think they’re always bad. Sometimes God really is redirecting us. Sometimes a season ends. Sometimes the assignment changes. Sometimes, wisdom says it’s time to lay something down.

But I also think there are moments when the enemy doesn’t have to tempt us with sin. He only has to distract us with something else. That something is almost as good, a little flashier, and maybe a little easier. It allows us to leave before we’ve had to become the person this current assignment is trying to shape us into.

I think about myself…

Maybe the point all along was becoming the woman who could finish the book.

Maybe launching the podcast mattered less than learning to keep showing up when the download numbers weren’t exciting.

Maybe it was always about strengthening my commitment rather than producing fruit.

So how do we know the difference?

How do we know when God is closing a door and when we're simply growing weary? I don't know that there's a formula, but I've started asking myself different questions: Am I running toward something… or simply away from something difficult?

Have I actually completed what I said I would do, or am I looking for the excitement of another beginning?

If no one ever applauded this work, would I still believe God called me to it?

Have I prayed long enough to hear God… or only long enough to hear myself?

Those questions don't always give me immediate answers, but they slow me down. And perhaps that's the point.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the brightest, shiniest object can’t always be God’s next assignment. Sometimes it’s simply a distraction to abandon the one we’re already holding. Other times, laying something down is exactly the act of obedience we’ve been resisting because we’ve confused perseverance with faithfulness.

Discernment means learning to recognize whether the next faithful step is to keep building… or to bless what has been and walk away.

Those answers rarely come in the excitement of a new opportunity… they usually come in the quiet, at three in the morning, when clear thoughts seem to find me. Im starting to believe that inspiration doesn’t sustain a calling— obedience does, one faithful day at a time.

So I’ll leave you with the same question I’m asking myself this week:

Is the thing calling my attention actually calling my heart… or is it simply distracting me from the work I already know I’ve been given?

Be Happy. 🧡