How To Stop Procrastinating When God Nudges You Toward Something
Can we talk about that nudge that’s been sitting in your heart a while?
Maybe it’s a specific step. Say hi to a neighbor. Take someone a meal. Carve margin or protect white space that’s up for grabs. Invite someone over. Start a book or podcast club in your neighborhood.
But it might be vague. An idea you’re turning over that you can’t exactly name. More of a feeling. A desire to connect. A hope that you actually will.
It felt clearer a first, but you’d almost forgotten until I brought it up. I promise I’m not being nosy for no reason. Thing is that I’m talking to myself but I’ve got a hunch you’ve got one of those little God-nudges too.
I get how you can ignore something long enough you begin to question whether you made the whole thing up. It’s easier to slide out of something you’ve never named aloud, never committed to paper, never actually agreed to.
But we’re both here, with that thing we’ve been holding loosely on purpose. This is me inviting you to a seat on my couch and some time to chat.
What If It’s Time?
Time to ask God what timeframe He has in mind.
Time to give Him your what-if’s, but-how’s, and why-me’s.
Time to name your fear and look it in the eye.
Time to tell someone else.
Time to write it down.
Time to borrow God’s lens.
Time to slip your hand into His.
Time to say a small, brave yes.
Because maybe avoiding that thing feels heavier than moving forward. Maybe you’d have more peace if you said yes. Maybe there’s a reason God’s asking you.
He’d be the One to see more in you than you see in yourself. Grow you through the journey rather than before you begin. See you through to the end, never for one microsecond leaving you alone.
Your Permission to Stop
Fellow procrastinator, you have permission to stop comparing yourself to the someone already doing it better. She’s responsible for her God-given talents and nudges, and her yes doesn’t give you an out to not use yours.
You have permission to stop making yourself feel small with your own unkind words. God’s truth trumps the self-critical voice in your head, and He says “[His] grace is all [you] need. [His] power works best in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9 NLT).
You have permission to stop being anyone but you. No shoulder-squaring, rapid house-cleaning, convincing, impressing, or pretending needed.
You have permission to stop making everybody happy at the same time. You won’t and can’t, and trying to will make it awfully hard to be much good to anyone at all.
You have permission to stop dismissing your own needs. You can set clear and kind boundaries. Accept help from God, but also from other people.
You have permission to stop over-committing. You may have to say no to something to make space logistically, mentally, and emotionally for this new thing. Press into God and He will lead you to wisdom.
You have permission to stop grading yourself. As Emily P. Freeman says in The Next Right Thing, “Let yourself be a beginner and receive all the gifts beginning has to give” (69).
You have permission to stop ignoring your questions. Let God be big enough to handle them. And if you need a space to write them down, I recommend Stuff I’d Only Tell God by Jennifer Dukes Lee.
You have permission to stop talking big. It’s okay to feel scared. But also to give fear the stink eye and say it can’t make ultimatums.
Let’s Dream
We’ll get super practical in a moment because it’s not gonna be helpful for either one of us if we keep that God-nudge hypothetical. But first, let’s walk this thing forward.
What would tomorrow look like if you said yes now?
What would have to change?
How would you change?
Sit with these questions until you’re ready to move on.
It’s important that you let yourself dream. Name it. Invite God into it.
The life God has for you isn’t boring and dry, full only of what’s predictable and safe. He’s in the adventure. He created creativity. He’s at the helm of many only-with-God possible dreams.
P.S. There’s space in Stuff I’d Only Tell God for you to dream on paper.
Practical and Actionable
Ready for some steps you can walk out? This is where it gets gritty. Where we stop procrastinating. Start with a small yes.
1. Tell someone about that God-nudge.
Something changes when you speak it aloud. Maybe it’s the brave choice to let go of pride and control. Openly admit it feels like a God-sized, not us-sized, thing. Both are door openers. Heart-softeners. Trust-builders.
2. Start small.
Think baby steps. Just the very next yes. “The next right thing,” as Emily P. Freeman famously says.
3. Choose a word to guide.
Let go of all the fuss and to-do about words of the year. Just pick a word or phrase that will point you in the direction of your dream. When the baby steps feel insignificant, look up and see how you’re inching forward. In time, baby steps snowball, and you want to be sure you’re heading on the right trajectory.
Finally, an invitation: To walk with me through Cultivating a Missional Life: A 30-Day Devotional to Gently Help You Open Your Heart, Home, and Life to Your Neighbors.
It’s my pocket-sized devotional with bite-sized chucks to make missional neighboring simple and doable. And if that God-nudge you’ve been sitting on for a while has to do with leading a group, there are five weeks of group discussion questions included at the end.
This is a guilt-free zone. We’re not letting the ways we’ve compared, ignored, or procrastinated in the past get in the way of the thing that God wants to do right now.
Let’s pray, shall we?
God, I’m ready to talk about that thing I think You’re asking me to do. To name the dream and the fear—and give them both to You. Point me in the right direction, and give me courage as I trust You.
Just a friend over here in your corner,
P.S. Did you know that The Uncommon Normal is also available as a podcast? Tune in to Apple Podcasts or Spotify to listen!
2 Comments
Bex Easterwood
Definitely something I have to work on…especially in parenting. Sometimes it’s not discipline so much as vengeance that I dish out 😔
twyla
Parenting is downright hard. There’s joy and beauty, but a lot of frustration and hard-won wisdom. I recently read Alli Worthington’s new book, Remaining You While Raising Them, and found it incredibly spot on. Maybe you’d find it helpful too.