Three Weeks Later

It’s been three weeks since I last picked up my Bible.

As 2025 was coming to a close, I promised myself I was going to dive deeper into my Bible, deeper into my purpose, deeper into who God is, and truly let my faith become my complete identity. I hate New Year’s resolutions because I feel like they almost always fail, but this one felt different. It felt possible.

As I prepare to head to college next fall, there are so many emotions that come with it. I’ll be leaving the only home I’ve ever known, my friends and family, and every familiar face. My comfort zone will be stretched far beyond what I’m used to, and I’ll be an hour and a half away from home. That might not sound far to many people, but considering I’ve never been away from my home or family for longer than a week, it’s nerve-wracking. Everything will be new, and if you’ve known me for a while, you know I’m not exactly a go with the flow person. I like things planned far in advance, timing never cut close, and being prepared (for the most part).

So, with my luck, the first week of the new year started off strong. I was doing so well- reading my Bible, diving into my questions, just like New Year’s resolutions tend to go at first. Then it all came to a screeching halt when I ended up with a broken hand and three weeks in a cast. Of course, it was my right hand, my dominant one.

Side note: if you don’t know me well, I’m very OCD. If my notes don’t all look the same in a notebook, I’m either buying a new one or rewriting everything. There is no in-between. That’s why I have an endless supply of Bibles and notebooks.

Since I couldn’t write, I convinced myself that I would never be one of those people who actually completes their New Year’s resolutions. After sitting with that thought, I decided I might as well not read my Bible for three weeks. Now, before you say anything, yes, I know that wasn’t the right choice. I have the Bible app on my phone, several ongoing reading plans, and I knew I could read without taking notes. But I told myself, “it’s fine… what’s three weeks anyway?”

I’m sitting here now on the other side of those three weeks, regretting that decision.

Today I got my cast off. I came home, showered, got ready, sat down to do some online schoolwork (thanks to the snow), and then I picked up my Bible for the first time in almost a month. And here’s a little secret, I’m slowly walking through the book of Revelation, and I actually love it.

There are so many things in Revelation that can be easily overlooked. But if you slow down, maybe use a devotional for each chapter, I promise you’ll be in awe. That’s not really my point, though. My point is that after I finished one chapter, I read another… and then another. By the end, I had read about five chapters, and my Bible was completely covered in notes.

And I felt peace, a peace I had been longing for over the last three weeks.

Why? Because I had not been in the Word. I didn’t even try to help myself. I let myself be consumed by the world instead of sticking to my goal and refusing to let a broken hand become an excuse.

Glorifying God and diving into His Word shouldn’t be the last thing on your to-do list. It should come first. Now, I’ll be honest, those people who wake up and immediately read their Bible, credit to you, because that will never be me. But when I read and study my Bible at night, I fall asleep easier. My anxiety lessens. My mind slows down.

So maybe intentional time with God isn’t the first task you do each day, but it needs to be first on your priority list, not just your to-do list.

Intentional time with God carries me through the day. When I spend time with Him at night, I fall asleep grateful and wake up even more grateful, reminded that the Lord is good, faithful, and will carry me through whatever today holds.

During those three weeks, I wasn’t glorifying God or making intentional time for Him. It didn’t seem like a big deal then, but now I see it clearly. Toward the end of those weeks, the dopamine faded, and there was an emptiness in my heart. I wanted everything except God, and all because I had shifted my focus from Him to worldly things, expecting them to fill a space only He ever could.