Silas
Beloved of All
When you read Proverbs 22:13, the image is almost comical, a man refusing to go outside because he imagines a lion in the street. But the truth it exposes is serious. That absurd fear is just a mask for an unwilling heart. The real danger isn’t outside; it’s the inertia that keeps him from doing what he knows he should.
That’s why the question you asked matters so much. Are there areas where you’re making excuses instead of taking action? Notice the difference between a reason and an excuse. A real reason is a genuine obstacle. An excuse is a story we tell ourselves to avoid discomfort or responsibility. It has been wisely observed that someone who becomes skilled at making excuses is rarely skilled at anything else. And often the excuse sounds plausible, I’m too busy, I need more certainty, it’s not the right moment, but beneath it there’s really just a heart that would rather stay put.
Think of the guests in the parable of the great banquet. One had just bought a field, another some oxen. They asked to be excused, yet their reasons were thin. No one buys a field without seeing it first. No one purchases oxen without knowing their quality. The excuses were a polite way of saying, “I don’t want to come.” That’s what the Lord saw, and it angered him because the invitation was genuine and the feast was ready. Laziness and preoccupation had simply built a wall of words.
The same dynamic works in our spiritual life and daily walk. We may feel a nudge to step into a new area of service, to mend a relationship, to tackle a stubborn habit, or simply to pursue the disciplines that make faith grow. Immediately, the mind offers a “lion in the street.” It might be fear of failure, fear of what others think, or just the love of ease. But God’s call to us is not a harsh taskmaster’s demand. Jesus said His yoke is easy and His burden is light. The master who entrusts us with talents isn’t looking for an excuse; He’s looking for simple faithfulness. The servant who buried his talent out of fear was called lazy and wicked, not for failing to produce something spectacular, but for doing nothing at all.
So how do we move past the excuses? It begins in the heart. Keep your heart with all diligence, because out of it flow the issues of life. The outward action, or inaction, is fed by an inward stream. Ask the Lord to put a filter over your mind, to expose the flimsy stories you tell yourself. Then practice the counter-motion: giving all diligence. Peter urges us to add to our faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, love. This isn’t passive. It’s a deliberate, sustained effort to grow. Diligence makes your calling and election sure, not by earning salvation, but by proving it real and receiving the assurance that you will never stumble.
Procrastination is just delayed obedience, and patterns of delay become ruts that are harder and harder to escape. Repeated actions etch themselves into the brain; relearning is more difficult than learning. So break the cycle early. Instead of waiting for perfect conditions, watching the wind or looking at the clouds, step into what you already know to do. Trust that God protects and provides. He has not given you a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.
Take a practical step today. Is there a conversation you’ve been avoiding? A task you’ve put off? A habit of prayer or Scripture reading you’ve let slip? Name it before the Lord, and then do the next small thing. You don’t need to conjure up enormous resolve; you just need to act in the strength Jesus supplies. When you do, the “lion” will vanish, and you’ll find that God has been waiting to bless your movement all along.
May you be filled with zeal that reflects the joy of the Lord, and may your daily choices build a life not of excuses, but of quiet, growing faithfulness.
That’s why the question you asked matters so much. Are there areas where you’re making excuses instead of taking action? Notice the difference between a reason and an excuse. A real reason is a genuine obstacle. An excuse is a story we tell ourselves to avoid discomfort or responsibility. It has been wisely observed that someone who becomes skilled at making excuses is rarely skilled at anything else. And often the excuse sounds plausible, I’m too busy, I need more certainty, it’s not the right moment, but beneath it there’s really just a heart that would rather stay put.
Think of the guests in the parable of the great banquet. One had just bought a field, another some oxen. They asked to be excused, yet their reasons were thin. No one buys a field without seeing it first. No one purchases oxen without knowing their quality. The excuses were a polite way of saying, “I don’t want to come.” That’s what the Lord saw, and it angered him because the invitation was genuine and the feast was ready. Laziness and preoccupation had simply built a wall of words.
The same dynamic works in our spiritual life and daily walk. We may feel a nudge to step into a new area of service, to mend a relationship, to tackle a stubborn habit, or simply to pursue the disciplines that make faith grow. Immediately, the mind offers a “lion in the street.” It might be fear of failure, fear of what others think, or just the love of ease. But God’s call to us is not a harsh taskmaster’s demand. Jesus said His yoke is easy and His burden is light. The master who entrusts us with talents isn’t looking for an excuse; He’s looking for simple faithfulness. The servant who buried his talent out of fear was called lazy and wicked, not for failing to produce something spectacular, but for doing nothing at all.
So how do we move past the excuses? It begins in the heart. Keep your heart with all diligence, because out of it flow the issues of life. The outward action, or inaction, is fed by an inward stream. Ask the Lord to put a filter over your mind, to expose the flimsy stories you tell yourself. Then practice the counter-motion: giving all diligence. Peter urges us to add to our faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, love. This isn’t passive. It’s a deliberate, sustained effort to grow. Diligence makes your calling and election sure, not by earning salvation, but by proving it real and receiving the assurance that you will never stumble.
Procrastination is just delayed obedience, and patterns of delay become ruts that are harder and harder to escape. Repeated actions etch themselves into the brain; relearning is more difficult than learning. So break the cycle early. Instead of waiting for perfect conditions, watching the wind or looking at the clouds, step into what you already know to do. Trust that God protects and provides. He has not given you a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.
Take a practical step today. Is there a conversation you’ve been avoiding? A task you’ve put off? A habit of prayer or Scripture reading you’ve let slip? Name it before the Lord, and then do the next small thing. You don’t need to conjure up enormous resolve; you just need to act in the strength Jesus supplies. When you do, the “lion” will vanish, and you’ll find that God has been waiting to bless your movement all along.
May you be filled with zeal that reflects the joy of the Lord, and may your daily choices build a life not of excuses, but of quiet, growing faithfulness.
