Larry VanHouse
This Little Light of Mine
I used to think strength looked like staying ahead, in control, strong, fast, and capable.
Staying busy. Staying productive. Staying in motion so nothing could catch up to me: stress, fear, failure, or that version of myself I did not want to become. So I ran.
Literally. Five, six, sometimes seven days a week. It was my reset button. My therapy. My way of staying in control.
Until my knees had a different opinion.
The first injury, I ignored. The second one, I got frustrated. The third one, that is when reality showed up and sat me down, whether I liked it or not.
Running stopped.
And for a while, so did I.
I did not replace it with something impressive. No big comeback story. I just started walking. Slow, quiet walks through the woods with no earbuds, no pace to hit, no step count, and no finish line. Just me, my dogs, my thoughts, and whatever God might say to me.
At first, it felt a lot like losing.
But somewhere along those pine-needle paths and tree lines, I started noticing things I had been running past for years. The way the light breaks through the trees in the morning. The stillness before the day gets loud. The quiet nudge that maybe I did not have to force everything to work.
Maybe I did not have to stay ahead. Maybe I just had to stay present.
Jesus said it in a way that almost sounds too simple:
“Give us today our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11, NIV).
Not next week’s bread. Not enough to cover every worst-case scenario. Just what you need for today.
That is harder than it sounds.
Most of us do not fall apart in big, dramatic moments. We get worn down in the ordinary ones. The middle of the week. The long afternoon. The quiet pressure of trying to stay on top of everything: work, family, expectations, and the version of life we thought we would have by now.
So we start reaching ahead. Planning, worrying, and carrying things that have not even happened yet.
And somewhere along the way, we miss what is right in front of us.
So let me ask you this:
Are you living ahead of today or inside it?
Because there is a difference.
Living ahead of today means you are always chasing something just out of reach, always trying to get in front of the next problem, the next responsibility, or the next version of yourself you think you are supposed to be.
But living inside today is different.
It is waking up and taking the day as it comes. Not lazy. Not checked out. Just grounded. Willing to do what is in front of you without trying to carry everything at once.
It is trusting that what God gives you today is enough for today.
I have learned that most of life is not built in big, defining moments. It is built in small ones. Repeated ones. The kind nobody applauds. The kind that does not feel like progress at the time.
The kind that looks a lot like walking instead of running.
And if I am honest, that is where most of us struggle.
We want transformation, but we look for it in big changes. A quick fix, a clear path, or instant results. Meanwhile, God is working in the daily, shaping us through ordinary moments, quiet discipline, and sometimes even forced stillness.
The truth is, some of the strongest seasons of my life did not come when I was running full speed. Sometimes they came when I was barely moving at all.
They came when I slowed down long enough to realize I was never in control to begin with.
That is not weakness.
That is learning to live inside the day you have been given.
Growth
Where are you getting pulled out of today, and what would it look like to fully step back into it?
Grace
You do not need to have it all figured out. You just need enough for today, and God has already provided that.
Father’s Day is this month, and here is a great gift for the men in your life. Forged: 52 Weeks of Grit, Growth, and Grace for Men Who Don’t Like to Read by Larry VanHoose is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other online bookstores, as well as local bookstores by special order. Step into the fire. Do not settle for a forgery (Matthew 3:11).
