The Gift of Walking Away

-

 The Gift of Walking Away

Choosing Peace Without Guilt

Post 4 in the Silent Prayers, Loud Lessons Series

When Staying Costs Too Much

Sometimes the greatest act of courage isn’t pressing in—it’s stepping back.

Today, I walked away.

Not with bitterness. Not with a grudge. But with a clarity that said: I am not required to stay in spaces that silence me. I don’t owe anyone my continued presence if it means sacrificing my peace.

I used to believe love meant lingering. That to be faithful, I had to be forever available. But the Spirit whispered something different today:  “You can leave and still love. You can walk away and still walk in grace.”

Leaving Isn’t Losing

For so long, I equated stepping away with failure. If I didn’t smooth things over or fix what felt broken, I felt like I had failed.

But now I see—it takes strength to leave chaos uninvited. It takes faith to release what no longer aligns. And it takes courage to choose stillness over drama, surrender over control.

I didn’t slam the door. I simply let it close.

Rest as Resistance

After the swirl of emotional tugs and subtle manipulations, I chose something radical: I went to the mall.

Yes—the mall. Where the only expectations were which store to browse and whether I wanted a soft pretzel. That trip wasn’t about shopping. It was about reclaiming rhythm. Reclaiming me.

In that moment, I wasn’t fleeing—I was returning. Returning to my center, to my breath, to the God who meets me in the quiet.

Reflect & Respond

When was the last time you gave yourself permission to leave—not in defiance, but in discernment? What would shift in your life if you believed rest was holy? Where is God inviting you to step back in order to step forward?

This week, consider that walking away doesn’t mean walking alone. Sometimes it's the most Spirit-led thing you can do.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Silence Speaks: The Prayer I Didn't See Coming

-
Silence Speaks Learning to See Like Jesus Post 1 in the Silent Prayers, Loud Lessons Series The Prayer I Didn't See Coming I didn’t plan to pray for shrewdness. It just came up—from somewhere deep inside. I paused and whispered,  “Lord, give me the spirit of shrewdness.”  Not the sharp-tongued kind that cuts, but the spiritual kind that discerns. The Jesus kind. I thought it was a one-liner prayer. Turns out, it was an invitation. A Shift I Could Feel but Not Touch My daughter and I were in the car—laughing, running errands, doing life. When I asked her to call her father about helping with the grandchildren, something shifted. Her words didn’t change, but her presence did. From light to heavy. From open to… closed. I saw it. I felt it. But I didn’t press or perform or pacify. I let the silence breathe. That moment wasn’t about fixing—it was about seeing. Clapback Without a Word Later, I stood toe-to-toe with another test: my husband’s layered expectations hidden inside “helpf...
Read more

✨ Carol’s Philosophy of Ministry

-
 I serve in ministry not out of obligation, but from the overflow of a life being transformed by grace. My journey—from rebellion and brokenness to surrender and calling—has been marked by a deep ache: the pain of  misplaced identity , shaped by performance, perfectionism, and the pressure to measure up. I know how easy it is to fake faith—I’ve worn the mask myself. But what breaks me now isn't my ability to pretend; it's watching others in the church go through the motions, void of truth, connection, or transformation. There’s something grossly unsettling about watching faith be performed, not lived. God saw past my mask. He didn’t shame me—He reshaped me. He’s teaching me to live from belovedness, not from trying to earn a spot in the room. Why I Do Ministry Because I know the  ache of not knowing who you are , and I want others to discover identity rooted in Christ—not applause. Because  God’s love met me in my mess , not in my performance. Because the  pain ...
Read more