I started a project this year.1

It’s a little raw and still taking shape, but each month I’m focusing on one fruit of the Spirit—praying, reading, and paying attention to how God forms us slowly, often quietly, in the everyday rhythms of life.

These notes are simply what I’m noticing along the way—places of resistance, growth, and grace—as I learn to abide and trust the Spirit’s work.

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“I am not asking whether you know things about him but do you know God, are you enjoying God, is God the center of your life, the soul of your being, the source of your greatest joy? He is meant to be.” (Martin Lloyd Jones)

A few years ago, I found myself in a slump. Determined to lean into joy, I made it my focus. I led a Bible study on Advent joy and continued into a winter study on Philippians, eager to rekindle my joy in Christ. That season gave me a clearer biblical framework for understanding what joy truly is.

Then last fall, I made some intentional changes. I began to recognize how the seasons affect my mood, along with the weight of working with mental health crisis. I added a daily gratitude list to my journal, set more pauses to be present with my kids, and leaned into life-giving rhythms like teaching, Bible study, reading, and writing.

“These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full” (John 15:11)

These habits helped lift the fog of low mood. But Scripture reminds me that joy is not simply about how I feel. It’s also about how I think and where I fix my attention.

I’ve been memorizing Psalm 16 and reflecting on the fullness of joy found in the presence of Christ, in faithful living, and among His people. The pull of the world toward achievement and accumulation is constant. Yet true joy is found as I intentionally root myself in Christ and look to Him for satisfaction. This joy is not fleeting. It is lasting.

“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11)

So this month, I am returned to biblical joy. I need the reminder. I need my compass reset to Christ, my true north, because the world will always pull me away with promises that don’t last.

Here are a few of the ways I have been reflecting on and pursuing true joy.

1. Defining Christian Joy

Stepping back to define joy is an ongoing and healthy practice for me. Discouragement and disappointment slip in easily, and when they do, joy can feel elusive, especially if I confuse it with happiness.

The Lexham Bible Dictionary describes biblical joy as “more a state of being than an emotion,” an awareness of God’s grace and favor rather than a passing feeling. That can be difficult to grasp, but it offers clarity and hope. Instead of chasing happiness, I am learning to pursue joy in Christ. I fix my eyes on the evidence of His grace throughout my day. This shift has changed me.

2. Keeping Track of Small Joys

A personal curriculum is not only reflective and instructional, it’s also deeply practical. This month, I chose to pay attention. Each day, I noticed small, joy-filled moments where God wove beauty and goodness into ordinary life, often when I least expected it.

A perfectly brewed cup of coffee. Boys erupting with excitement after a winning point in a close volleyball game. The glowing awe of a sunrise or sunset. Sweet camaraderie with friends. A timely passage of Scripture that redirects my heart.

As I paid attention, my joy grew.

3. The Unhurried Approach

As Lent continued through the month, I practiced pausing to savor Christ during my morning abiding time. In unhurried moments, I made space to reflect on His perfect love and His finished work.

How often do I actually pause to taste my morning coffee or slow down enough to enjoy a meal? It may sound small, but the habit of rushing shapes more than our schedules. It shapes our souls. Instead of moving quickly through Scripture or hurrying into the day, I am learning to begin at a slower, more intentional pace so I can truly treasure the goodness of the gospel.

This is the difference between eating and enjoying, between hurrying and savoring, both in daily life and in the presence of Christ.

4. Free to Rest and Enjoy

Learning to find joy in Christ requires intentional pauses. I know this, yet I often struggle to practice it. I suspect part of the struggle comes from a mindset shaped by striving rather than abiding.

I can feel the pressure to perform, as if I must secure my place as a co-heir with Christ. But union with Christ reminds me that there is nothing left to earn. He has already secured it. My relationship with Him is grounded in being before it’s expressed in doing.

This doesn’t remove action, but it rightly orders it. I respond from acceptance, not for it. I remember that God is forming who I am, not merely measuring what I do. And in that remembering, I find freedom to rest and to enjoy Him.

5. To Know and Enjoy the Lord

The Westminster Shorter Catechism teaches that the chief end of man “is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” Isn’t that beautiful?!

As I meditated on this truth alongside Psalm 16, I was reminded that fullness of joy is found in the presence of God. That realization began to shape my Bible study. I found myself slowing down, digging deeper, and reaching for resources on hermeneutics to better understand and rightly handle His Word.2

Knowing God and enjoying Him are not separate pursuits. They are deeply intertwined.

6. Holiness Is Happiness

R. C. Sproul summarizes the path to true happiness: “The secret to happiness is found in obedience to God. How can we be happy if we are not obedient? How can we be obedient if we do not know what it is we are to obey? Thus, the top and the tail of it is that happiness cannot be fully discovered as long as we remain ignorant of God’s Word.” 3

True joy grows in lives that glorify God through godliness.

Ronni Kurtz writes, “Even our repentance is a repentance into joy. Like David, when we move from wickedness to righteousness, we ought to beseech the Lord to ‘restore the joy of your salvation to me’ (Ps. 51:12).”4

The Spirit’s sanctifying work in us often feels like pruning. At times it is painful. Yet it is always purposeful. It leads to fruitfulness in our lives and for His kingdom. We may not see it clearly in the moment, but we can trust the Gardener who tends His vines. His care steadies us with hope and assures us of His presence.

7. Joy Doesn’t Equal Ease

James calls us to consider our trials as joy. This is far from an easy command, but it teaches us that joy and sorrow can coexist.

Tim Keller offers a helpful picture. He compares joy to salt.5 Salt preserves meat from spoiling, and in the same way, joy enters our sorrow and keeps it from overwhelming us. Our hearts are preserved by the joy we have in Christ. The pain doesn’t disappear, but truth keeps us anchored and helps us endure.

David Gibson writes, “Joy is the deep, settled knowledge that God is in this, that nothing he sends me—nothing!—is outside his care and his loving purposes for me.”6

God’s sovereignty in every season becomes the steady anchor for our joy because we know Him and trust Him.

8. A Model for Joy in Suffering

Hebrews 12:2 calls us to look to Jesus, “the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

As we endure in faith, we look to our Savior. He shows us that there is joy in obedience, blessing in holiness, and certain hope in His victory.

May we keep the good news of the gospel at the center of our hearts and minds each day. As we do, we remember with deep joy the work of Christ and the salvation we have in Him.

9. The Threats to Our Joy

If we look to our circumstances for joy, we will drift toward discouragement.
If we love the things of this world more than Christ, our hearts will grow restless and disheartened.

True joy is found in communion with God.

So what threatens that joy?

Comparison. Discontentment. The quiet belief that something else will satisfy more than Christ. The pressure to strive and achieve, only to feel like we fall short.

When joy feels distant, we can come before the Lord in honesty. We can ask Him to search our hearts and reveal where our desires have become disordered. And as He does, we can turn again in repentance and find that joy is not lost. It is restored in Him.

10. The Attractiveness of a Joy-Filled People

A Welsh preacher, D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones emphasized the need for a joyful church. He said, “The greatest need of the hour is a revived and joyful church ... Unhappy Christians are a poor recommendation for the faith ... The exuberant joy of the early Christians was one of the most potent factors in the spread of Christianity.”7

God advances His kingdom through the faithful, ordinary obedience of His people, empowered by His Spirit. And one of the clearest marks of that work is joy. It’s a joy the world can’t manufacture. It draws people in and points to a hope and conviction far deeper than circumstances, rooted in the salvation we have now and the glory to come.

I saw this up close during one of the hardest seasons of our lives. When my daughter was in the ICU again after her bone marrow transplant, her condition took another serious turn. In the middle of all the uncertainty, I shared with her nurse about God’s faithfulness to us. She responded, “I knew you were believers!” She went on to explain that others on the unit had noticed how we were holding together in the midst of it all, wondering how it was even possible. It opened the door for her to share the gospel with them and to speak about the reason for our hope and joy.

The world is searching for happiness. It looks for it in success, comfort, relationships, and control, yet it remains out of reach. But we have been given something better. We have the good news of the gospel.

So we fight for joy. Not a shallow optimism, but a deep, abiding joy in Christ. And as we do, our lives become a witness to the One who is our true and lasting hope.

May we become fruitful as we thrive in grace.

More Content on Love

🗞️ Trading the Pursuit of Happiness for the Gift of Joy

📚 13 Christian Books About Joy That Will Inspire Gospel-Centered Delight

📝 The Fruitful Reader’s Journal - Joy Edition (free download)

Resource List

This was my curriculum list for the month:

• Studying and meditating on Psalm 16, Philippians 1 & 4, John 15, James 1

• Fruitful Theology by Ronni Kurtz (ch.3 Joy, re-read; My Review) ; Deep Roots, Good Fruit by Kristin Couch (ch.3 Joy, re-read: My Review)

• I read The Pursuit of Holy Leisure, Seeing and Savouring Jesus Christ, Delighting in the Trinity, Sarah Edwards: Delighting in God

• I listened to the Journeywomen podcast with Courtney Doctor on the topic of joy and Tim Keller’s sermon on “Infallible Joy”

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  * Next up…. 🕊️ Peace

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  For the Christian who juggles much yet longs to live faithfully in all things — reflections, resources, and reminders to abide in Christ.

I started a project this year.1

It’s a little raw and still taking shape, but each month I’m focusing on one fruit of the Spirit—praying, reading, and paying attention to how God forms us slowly, often quietly, in the everyday rhythms of life.

These notes are simply what I’m noticing along the way—places of resistance, growth, and grace—as I learn to abide and trust the Spirit’s work.

Subscribe now

I’m spent the month contemplating love. And, surprisingly, it’s been harder than I expected.

Love has often felt soft to me—mushy, even cheesy. Trying to put words to it has been difficult. But that difficulty has made me curious. Why does love feel this way? What’s holding me back?

I grew up with a lot of tough love. I learned early that I was most likely to receive love if I did things right. So I became a high achiever—a perfectionist. But the reverse slowly took root as well: if I didn’t do things right, I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t worthy of love.

So I built walls to protect my heart from the sting of unmet expectations and unmet desires for affection. If the wall was strong enough, maybe my heart wouldn’t need love at all.

It felt like a solid defense strategy: protect yourself from pain.

Fortified borders signal strength in times of danger. When the gates are locked, enemies can’t get in. But neither can provisions. Over time, food runs scarce. Fear and uncertainty grow. And a new threat emerges—not from outside, but from within.

Yet God does not give us a spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7). We’re told that “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). So what do we do with wounded hearts that have learned to brace instead of receive?

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3).

Instead of running from the love of God, I’m learning to submit to His tender care—to let Him dress the raw places, apply ointment, and wrap what has been exposed. It’s a gentle picture of His enduring love. We are not cast away. He draws near, guiding us like a Good Shepherd into places of rest and provision (Psalm 23).

God’s love is the healing I need. Though my experience of love has been imperfect, His is steadfast. As I seek refuge in Him, He leads me into knowing and enjoying Him more deeply.

“The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe” (Proverbs 18:10).

So this month, as I’ve reflected on love—on my questions, my hesitations, and even my failures—I’ve put my gaze on God’s love, taking refuge there and finding safety.

1. The Greatest Command

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength” (Mark 12:30). This first and greatest command calls me to wholehearted devotion. I often think I love God enough, but reflecting on this verse reminds me how easily my love can be partial—distracted, hesitant, or tied up with comfort and control. I need more of His love to truly fill my life, because it’s only as I receive it fully that I can respond to Him fully. Practically, that means pausing each day to notice where I’m giving attention, energy, or affection away from Him, and redirecting it toward Him.

2. Wholehearted love grows when our desires are rightly ordered

Last month, in reflecting on self-control, I explored how disordered desires shape our lives. Love blooms when our desires are rightly ordered—first God, then neighbor. It shows up when I notice impatience, envy, or self-focus, and choose instead to act toward God and others. Practically, it can look like stopping mid-thought to ask, “Is this desire for me or for God?”—or choosing a kind word instead of a defensive one. Love is not just a feeling; it’s a reorientation of the heart toward the good of God and others.

3. Love is not something God has, but something He is

God doesn’t possess love—He is love (1 John 4:8). That means His love is constant, unchanging, and not conditional on performance or mood. My human experience often tells me love is given or withheld based on behavior, effort, or worthiness—but God’s love is His identity. That changes everything: it frees me from striving to earn it and invites me to trust it. Practically, I remind myself when I’m anxious about my own adequacy: God’s love is not based on me—it’s simply who He is.

4. God doesn’t love because we’re lovable

Romans 5:8 says, “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” His love reached even those bent against Him, even those who resisted Him. That humbles me. I can’t earn it, and I can’t fully comprehend it. Practically, this draws me to gratitude and awe, and to a posture of receiving rather than performing. It reshapes my prayers, my reflections, and my interactions—reminding me that if God can love the unlovable, I am called to reflect that same grace toward myself and others.

5. The effect of God’s love is peace

I hadn’t thought about this much before, but God’s love brings peace—peace with Him, peace within ourselves, and peace with others (Romans 5:1). It doesn’t remove effort or confrontation, but it changes the posture of the heart. Practically, I notice that when I dwell on God’s love instead of my fears or my unmet expectations, tension softens. My mind quiets, my interactions shift, and I can act with gentleness rather than anxiety. This is something I know I’ll explore more deeply in future months.

6. We respond to God’s love motivated to grow in holiness

God’s love is not just a comfort—it’s a call. When I dwell on how deeply He loves me, it awakens a desire to reflect that love in the way I live. Holiness isn’t about legalism or earning His favor; it’s about allowing His love to shape my thoughts, words, and actions. Practically, I notice moments when I’m impatient, reactive, or self-focused. Remembering His love motivates me to pause, pray, and respond differently—to align my desires with His purposes rather than my impulses (1 Peter 1:15-16).

7. God teaches us how to love

We don’t learn love instinctively. God shows us what love is through His Word. Studying Scripture reveals the character of God and the posture He calls us to take toward others. As I read, I’m reminded that love is patient, kind, humble, and steadfast (1 Corinthians 13:4-7). Practically, this means turning to Scripture when my heart struggles—when I’m frustrated with a family member, resentful toward a coworker, or tempted to withdraw from someone. The Word guides me in practicing the love God desires to grow in me.

8. Love is not just respect—it is selfless, humble, and giving

Jesus calls us to love as He loves, not merely to avoid hurting others or to act politely. Philippians 2:3-4 challenges me to “do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.” That is hard. Loving sacrificially is countercultural. But in my marriage, my family, and my friendships, I see that choosing to love—even when it’s inconvenient or challenging—creates connection, trust, and joy that nothing else can. Practically, it means prioritizing someone else’s needs, listening attentively, or extending forgiveness before it’s earned.

9. Familial and communal love matters

Our love for others, especially fellow believers, is a witness to the world. Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). When disagreements arise or preferences clash, it’s easy for the church to appear divided or hypocritical. Reflecting on this, I see that my love—or lack of it—impacts more than just my relationships; it’s part of our testimony as a community. Practically, it means leaning into reconciliation, humility, and listening, even when I’m frustrated, so that God’s love shines through.

10. Repenting of our loveless hearts
Philip Graham Ryken writes, “Most of the time, most of us tend to believe that we do a pretty good job of loving other people. So we rarely repent of our loveless hearts…We forget to pray that the Holy Spirit would make us better lovers” (Loving the Way Jesus Loves). This struck me deeply. My love is often imperfect, and I can hide behind shame or excuses. But instead, God invites me to draw near, confess my shortcomings, and ask Him to fill my heart with His love. Practically, this means pausing in moments of frustration or indifference and praying for God’s love to flow through me, asking Him to make me the kind of person who loves others as He loves me.

Lord Jesus, we love imperfectly. We struggle with desires that aren’t aligned with yours. Forgive us for our lovelessness, and fill us with your love so we may love others as you do.

Wrestling with love this month has reminded me how often my heart falls short—and yet, God’s love meets me there.

May we become fruitful as we thrive in grace.

More Content on Love

📚 10 Christian Books on Growing in Biblical Love

📝 The Fruitful Reader’s Journal - Love Edition (free download)

Resource List

This was my curriculum list for the month:

• Studying and meditating on Deuteronomy 6:4-9, Mark 12:28-34, 1 John 4:7-12, 1 Corinthians 13, Ephesians 5

• Fruitful Theology by Ronni Kurtz (ch.2 Love, re-read; My Review)

• Reviewed my notes and highlights from The Steadfast Love of the Lord by Sam Storms and Known & Loved by Glenna Marshall

• Read Stop Loving the World by William Greenhill

• Read The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis

• Read Married For God by Christopher Ash

• Started reading How to Stay Married by Harrison Scott Key, but didn’t make it through. It’s written by a comedian and I found the humour a bit much with the point taking a little too long.

• I listened to the Journeywomen podcast with Jen Oshman on the topic of love

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  * Next up…. 😊Joy

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  For the Christian who juggles much yet longs to live faithfully in all things — reflections, resources, and reminders to abide in Christ.

I started a project this year.1

It’s a little raw and still taking shape, but each month I’m focusing on one fruit of the Spirit—praying, reading, and paying attention to how God forms us slowly, often quietly, in the everyday rhythms of life.

These notes are simply what I’m noticing along the way—places of resistance, growth, and grace—as I learn to abide and trust the Spirit’s work.

Subscribe now

Spending the month focused on self-control felt a bit weighty. As a recovering perfectionist, I was surprised to find that I wasn’t pulled into self-condemnation, but into a growing awareness of where my desires are disordered—and a desire to notice them, bring them before God, and seek His grace and mercy.

Practically, this showed up in a couple of areas. I worked on being more intentional with my eating—reducing my carb intake—and with my reading habits, especially the ways I’m prone to using books to escape rather than face uncomfortable feelings or challenging circumstances.

What surprised me most, though, was joy.

In a conversation a few weeks ago, someone shared that the seasons of her life marked by greater self-control were also marked by greater joy.

I’ve noticed the same.

Looking back through my journal, I realized that January often brings a dip in mood as the winter blues set in. This year, however, I’ve felt more joyful—and more able to lean into the work God is doing in and around me. I’m deeply grateful for God’s grace in this.

Here are a few highlights from my journey.

1. Self-control is about desire before it’s about behavior.
Jesus tells us that actions flow from the heart (Matthew 12:34). I used to think of self-control mainly in terms of restraint—what I should stop doing. This month helped me see that behavior is downstream from desire. What I do reveals what I love, fear, or trust in that moment.

2. The problem isn’t that I desire too much—it’s that I desire poorly.
Paul describes the tension between the flesh and the Spirit as an ongoing conflict (Galatians 5:16–17). I don’t lack desire; my desires are often disordered. Good things become ultimate things, and when that happens, wants start masquerading as needs.

3. Self-control does not come naturally to me.
Scripture reminds us that following Christ involves daily self-denial (Luke 9:23). We live in a culture that encourages indulgence and avoidance, and I feel how easily I drift in that direction. Discipleship without self-denial is incomplete.

4. A lack of self-control often reveals a lack of trust.
Titus reminds us that God’s grace trains us to say no to ungodliness while we wait for Christ (Titus 2:11–14). Giving in—to frustration, escape, or excess—is often doubting God’s provision and care.

5. Discipline can easily turn into self-righteousness.
Jesus warns against becoming white-washed tombs, a self-righteousness that feeds our pride (Matthew 23:27). So, sometimes growth brings its own danger. Without grace, discipline becomes comparison, and formation shifts into performance.

6. Willpower is not the solution.
The psalmist reminds us that joy is found in God’s presence (Psalm 16:11). I’m learning that desire is displaced, not defeated. True self-control grows as my affections are reordered toward what is truly good.

7. My body belongs to the Lord.
Paul writes that the body is for the Lord, and the Lord for the body (1 Corinthians 6:13). Self-control flows not from contempt for the body, but from belonging and our union with Christ.

8. When I grow weary, I must look outside myself.
We are told to fix our eyes on Jesus, who endured the cross for the joy set before Him (Hebrews 12:2–3). When my gaze turns inward, the battle grows heavy. Looking to Christ steadies me.

9. Honesty creates space for growth.
Scripture calls us to walk in the light (1 John 1:7). Naming struggles—before God and with others—loosens shame’s grip. Secrecy starves formation; grace feeds it.

This month didn’t make me finished or flawless. But it did help me be more attentive—to my desires, to God’s kindness, and to the slow work of grace.

May we become fruitful as we thrive in grace.

Resource List

This was my curriculum list for the month:

• I spent time studying and meditating on Galatians 5:16-26, Titus 2:11-14, Romans 6, 1 Cor 6:12-20

• Galatians For You by Timothy Keller (on Galatians 5, re-read)

• Fruitful Theology by Ronni Kurtz (ch.10 Self-Control, re-read; My Review)

• Deep Roots, Good Fruit by Kristin Couch (ch.9 Self-Control, re-read: My Review)

• Respectable Sins by Jerry Bridges (ch.13 On Lack of Self-Control, re-read; My Review)

• Dopamine Nation by Anne Lembke2

• I listened to Hunter Beless interview Blair Linne on the topic of self-control.

• And Timothy Keller’s sermon on the topic as well.

• I started The Discipline of Grace by Jerry Bridges and The Truth About Lies by Tim Chaddick, but wasn’t able to finish these by the end of the month.

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  * Next up….Love ❤️

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  For the Christian who juggles much yet longs to live faithfully in all things — reflections, resources, and reminders to abide in Christ.

Abiding Notes is a simple collection of reflections and moments from the week—snapshots of life and faith in the middle of full days. My hope is that these small notes encourage you to pause, look to Christ, and keep abiding in Him with grace and hope.

Subscribe now

During my time of reflection in December—looking back over the year and peeking ahead with my mind’s eye toward the days to come—I noticed something gently but clearly missing.

Not a lack of love for God, or discipline, or desire. But a lack of intentionality when it came to growing the fruit of the Spirit in my life.

I mean, maybe that sounds a bit strong, so what I mean to say is, I love reading Scripture. I’ve been growing in my practice of prayer. And the Lord has certainly been at work—using challenges, sorrows, and hard moments to teach me reliance on Him rather than self-sufficiency. So, there has been growth.

And yet, I realized I hadn’t been very purposeful about cultivating virtue and character. I hadn’t named it, prayed toward it, or tended it with much care.

For me, that matters—because when I’m not attentive to this kind of growth, I can slowly drift into a subtle self-righteousness. The kind that whispers, I’m doing fine. I’m not really that bad.

This insight gave me pause.

Around the same time, I found myself thinking about learning—how much I enjoy it, how my brain is wired, and why the idea of a personal curriculum began to resonate with me in a fresh way.

I’d seen the idea floating around last year (mostly online, mostly through blogs), and it stuck with me. Especially as winter settled in and I noticed my mood dipping, my days feeling full but a little scattered. I began asking practical questions:

What rhythms do I need right now?

What kind of learning would nourish me?

What would help me reflect more deeply on Christ in the middle of ordinary life?

So, pairing my spiritual growth with an intentional plan made me really excited. (And yes—this is where my nerdy side fully comes out. I’ll own that). This wasn’t about doing more, striving harder, or adding another layer of expectation to already full days. It was about paying attention—about tending what God was already growing. But it was a lot of fun to research, to pray through, research and develop.

Of course, the fruit of the Spirit isn’t something we achieve or manufacture. It isn’t a checklist, or a project we complete through effort alone. When we approach it that way, it quickly turns into something lonely and pride-filled.

The fruit of the Spirit is the Spirit’s deeper work—reshaping who we are, not just what we do.

As Jared Wilson puts it, these virtues are “evidences of God’s grace in our life that fuse our hearts and minds, conforming our affections and behavioral patterns to the movements of the Spirit and the rhythms of the kingdom.”1 They’re the overflow of a heart the Spirit has made alive.

And yet, receiving the fruit as a gift of grace doesn’t mean passivity. It doesn’t mean admiring the gift from a distance. It means receiving it—and responding.

We participate in our sanctification. Holiness requires intentionality.
Not earning, but effort.
Because the grace of God is not opposed to effort—it is opposed to earning.

The Spirit is the gardener. We are the branches who respond. Any growth we see is fruit—His work, not ours to claim.

So as I prayed and reflected, I began to wonder what it might look like to focus on one fruit of the Spirit each month—being gentle but purposeful in prayer, Scripture, memorization, and reading.

What follows is simply what I did. My hope is not to overwhelm, but to offer a framework—trusting that the Spirit may stir ideas in your own heart for what Spirit-empowered faithfulness could look like for you this year.

1 What is a Personal Curriculum?

At its simplest, a personal curriculum is just an outline of content you’d like to concentrate on—something that helps organize your thinking, your learning, and, over time, your life.

You choose the focus. That means it can be anything that’s meaningful or life-giving to you: habits or hobbies, history or theology, spiritual formation or practical wisdom for everyday faithfulness.

This idea pairs beautifully with the invitation we’re given in Colossians 2:6–7:

“Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.”

Walking in Christ is not rushed. It’s rooted. It’s formed over time. And a personal curriculum is simply one way of paying attention to how we are being built up—not by striving, but by abiding.

In its simplest form, a personal curriculum might look like nothing more than a small stack of books on your shelf—books you plan to read slowly throughout the year. Instead of reaching for your phone when you have a spare moment, you reach for the stack. You underline a sentence, jot a note in the margin, maybe reflect briefly when you finish.

And if that’s where you are, hang tight. This is not an invitation to complexity. The simplest version is often the most faithful place to begin.

In a more developed form, a personal curriculum could look more like a course you create for yourself—pairing books or podcast episodes with gentle rhythms of reflection, journaling, or prayer around a topic you want to explore more deeply.

But the heart of it remains the same: walking in Christ, rooted and established, allowing time and attention to shape us—slowly, faithfully, and with gratitude.

2 Choosing Topics That Matter For this Season

A personal curriculum can really be about anything. I’ve seen people spend a month focused on nutrition or fitness, managing finances, or practicing spiritual disciplines. As I’ve read through examples and reflected on this idea myself, one thing has become clear: the most meaningful topics are those that align with your values, your season of life, and the kind of faithfulness God is inviting you into right now.

Scripture encourages us to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Pet. 3:18) and to “walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Col 1:10). So as followers of Christ, our learning—whatever form it takes—ought to be oriented toward growing in the Lord.

Because of that, whatever topic you choose, it’s worth pausing to ask why. Why does this matter for your life and faith? How does this area connect to loving God and loving others?

Whether the topic is stewarding your body, your time, or your resources, all of life is lived before God. Nothing sits outside His care or sovereignty.

That’s why even very practical topics can be deeply spiritual as we live out our faith in our day to day. 2

So, pray and reflect on your life, your roles and responsibilities, your relationships, your work, your limitations and your joys.

God has placed you here and now, with the family, the circle of influence, this vocation and calling. What areas of learning might equip you to glorify Him and do good for others right where you are?

It can also be helpful to consider areas of both weakness and strength. Areas where you notice patterns of temptation or struggle. Whether it’s gossip or greed, fear or self-reliance, we all have places where we’re more vulnerable. This is part of living in the “already and not yet” of God’s kingdom—we are saved, and yet we are still being saved as we wrestle with the flesh, the world, and the devil until Christ returns.

So as you look honestly over your life, where do you feel most prone to temptation? Gently bring that before the Lord and ask Him for wisdom.

At the same time, don’t overlook areas of strength. The apostle Paul prayed for the Philippian church that their love would, “ abound more and more, with knowledge and discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God” (Phil 1:9-11). Growth is also about deepening what God is already doing.

Whether you choose five books on five different topics, or one book each month for the year, this is meant to serve you—your season, your capacity, your life. Don’t be overwhelmed. Be curious.

Asking why matters because motivation inevitably wanes. James Clear3 notes in Atomic Habits that many people focus first on what they want to achieve, which leads to outcome-based habits. But, he argues, lasting change grows from identity-based habits—starting with who we are becoming.

From a Christian perspective, Tim Challies4 echoes this same truth: “God is more interested in who we are becoming than in what we are accomplishing. Great deeds done from bad motives please God less than small deeds done from great character.”

So if the topic is Bible reading, the why might be becoming a woman nourished not by bread alone, but by every word that comes from God (Matthew 4:4). If the topic is finances, the why might be learning freedom from the love of money (Hebrews 13:5) and growing in cheerful generosity (2 Corinthians 9:7).

As those who love and follow Christ, everything we do is meant to glorify Him—to grow in knowing and enjoying Him, and to let that love overflow in good works toward others. As we attend to who we are becoming, God promises that fruit will come as we abide in Him.

3 Finding Faithful, Biblical Content

Once you’ve chosen your topics, the next step is simply finding resources.

Start with how you learn best. I tend to learn through reading and highlighting as I go, so I mostly use ebooks. But you might prefer a physical book you can hold, underline, and write notes in. For others, audiobooks or podcasts work best—something you can listen to while cooking, folding laundry, or driving.

There’s no right or wrong here. The goal isn’t to consume content efficiently—it’s to choose a format that helps you stay attentive and present.

From there, think of this stage less as “research” and more as foraging. You’re gathering what might nourish you.

One simple place to start is with recommendations from people you trust. That could be your pastor, a friend, a family member, or writers you’ve found consistently helpful. (And yes—you can always reach out and ask.)

If you visit my blog you’ll also find recommendations for Christian living through my Book Reviews

Tim Challies also curates a helpful list of book recommendations across a wide range of Christian living topics (HERE).

Before committing to a book, it can be helpful to glance through the table of contents and even read the introduction or first chapter (many of these are available through the “read sample” button on Amazon). This often gives you a feel for the author’s tone and approach and whether the book feels like a good fit.

Beyond books, I also looked for sermons from gospel-centered pastors and faithful Christian podcasts. This added variety and helped me engage the topic in different ways.5

However you gather your content, remember: this isn’t about collecting as much as possible. It’s about choosing a few resources that invite you to slow down, listen well, and remain attentive to the Spirit’s work.

4 Making a Gentle Plan

Once you’ve gathered your list—or your “stack”—consider how you want to move through it.

You might decide on a simple rhythm, like one book a month. Or you might prefer something looser, moving from one book or podcast to the next without a set timeline. Either approach can be faithful. What matters most is choosing a pace that fits your life and leaves room for attentiveness rather than pressure.

When you finish a book, sermon, or podcast, pause to reflect. This doesn’t need to be complicated. A few simple questions can help you listen for what God might be doing:

What stood out to me?
What is God teaching me?
How does this shape the way I live right now?

For my fruit of the Spirit curriculum, alongside books and podcasts, I also listed a few Scripture passages to study for each topic. As I’ve worked through this first month, I’ve found this especially meaningful—returning again and again to God’s Word as the place where everything else is anchored.

Earlier this year, I was deeply impacted by the commitment to prayer modeled by our mission leaders, and I sensed this was an area where I needed to grow. That led me to write a series of articles on prayer, rooted in Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane. Keeping Scripture central helped draw my heart back—again and again—to dependence on God and learning from the life of Christ.

So as you think through your own curriculum, you might also consider keeping a journal or writing occasionally as you go. Not to produce something polished, but to help those roots grow deeper—to notice, to remember, and to respond to what the Lord is teaching you.6

5 Holding Your Curriculum With Grace

I’ll admit, I hesitated to write this section. For weeks, the draft sat untouched.

Naming this idea publicly—and admitting that I’ve created a personal curriculum—makes me feel a little anxious. I worry I’ll lose momentum. That I’ll talk about it this month, only to feel my energy fade by the next. Or worse, that I’ll have to admit I didn’t follow through the way I’d hoped. 7

And maybe that’s you, too.

But I’m reminded that our efforts toward holiness are never wasted.

James tells us that if we “draw near to God, he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). That promise steadies me. God’s nearness doesn’t hinge on my consistency or my ability to complete a plan. His presence means He is renewing us day by day, and the good work He began, He will bring to completion—whether or not I read every book or follow my curriculum perfectly.

Because, “Fruitfulness is thriving in grace.” 8

That brings us back—again—to the gospel. Grace does not rest on me. It rests firmly in Christ. Which means I’m free to participate intentionally and purposefully, while trusting the outcome to Him.

Practices like reading, reflection, and discipline don’t make us more loved by God—but they do help us become more surrendered to Him. They gently turn our attention toward God, helping us center our lives on who Jesus is, what He has done for us, and the calling He has placed before us.

My prayer is that this might stir your imagination and your desire to grow in the Lord. Not by adding another ever-expanding list of things to do—but by encouraging a way of life that abides in Christ. A life rooted in grace. A life shaped slowly, faithfully, and meaningfully over time.