When I’m angry at someone, the last thing I want to hear is that I need to be the bigger person. I think that’s a normal response to being told to take the high road when you’d rather slum it on the low one. And there will be times when it almost pains you to take the high road. Because the person that’s hurt you has hit you so close to home that your heart breaks. Or because someone you love or trusted is the one who did the damage.

Okay, so surely gentleness is a redundant fruit of kindness and goodness. If that’s what you’re thinking coming into this devotion, I’d like to challenge you with this idea: for the past 8 weeks, we’ve been unpacking different facets of God’s character that are leant to us through the Holy Spirit. As Christians, when we find God’s character within us, we can be assured that we have lived a life closely with Him, because it is impossible for God’s Spirit to dwell where practices of the flesh are allowed to flourish. Ergo, the more we commit ourselves to a life lived in sacrifice to our Savior and allow Him to take more and more control of our lives, the less we will see of the world within us.

I’ve probably said this before, but Ruth is one of my favorite books in the Bible. Some people disagree. I’ve heard some people pull out some really questionable theology out of this book and completely twist it completely out of context. The truth is, at its heart, the Book of Ruth is a beautiful metaphor of God’s redemptive plan and one woman’s resilience and tenacity.

From the moment I was allowed to sign up for classes for my junior year of high school, there was one class that I was dying to take: photography. Little did I know, as I sat down on my first day, that I was about to learn an art that took a whole lot more work than the point-and-click photography I was accustomed to. Oh, no. This photography class dealt solely in film. We learned every step of creating a photo, leading up to the ever-exciting experience of using a dark room.

So because my husband and I now own a house and don’t live in a basement apartment anymore, I’ve recently become a plant mom. Up until now, my understanding of plants has been minimal; you plant it, water it, give it the right amount of sun or indirect sun, and let it do its thing. Seems like a simple equation, except it’s not. Because obviously, a plant can’t tell you what’s wrong, you have to troubleshoot it and wait for a positive result.

No matter how long you’ve been a Christian– whether you’re on day one or decades from the starting line– everyone that has ever followed Jesus is unified by at least this fact: none of us have ever graduated from the point of salvation. Because no matter how long your spiritual resume is, it is unavoidable that you will struggle with your own tendency towards sin until the day you die. Maybe that’s blunt or depressing, but it’s true. There will never be a point in this life where you will be able to think, “Well, that’s it. I’ve done it. I’ve obtained a wholly righteous and upright lifestyle. I will no longer struggle with sin.”

People love routine. I’m no exception. I love the comfort of falling into a rhythm when it comes to my schedule or work. There’s something about the familiarity and confidence in knowing what is coming next and moving into it without hesitation. But I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes, having a routine for the sake of having a routine is a dangerous habit to fall into. Tradition is the same way. Sure, there is something beautiful in having a custom or a belief that’s passed down from generation to generation or person to person. But sometimes, our traditions and routines distract us from certain things that should have our full attention.