Maybe Me Now: Stop Saying BUT and Start Choosing Differently

I know.

I have written about this before.

Actually, I have written about it a lot.

And yet… here I am writing about it again.

So perhaps there is something in this that I—and maybe some of you reading this—still need to hear.

The last couple of months have really brought this home for me.

I have lived it myself. I have wrestled with it. I have had countless conversations with myself, friends and clients who are going through exactly the same thing.

Different circumstances.

Different stories.

Different struggles.

But underneath it all, the same thing keeps coming up:

We know.

We actually know what we should be doing.

We know what the healthier choice is.

We know what the right thing is.

We know what needs to change.

And then comes that little word.

BUT.

Oh, that word.

I think we are incredibly good at using BUT.

And I know I am guilty of it too.

“I know I should…”

BUT…

“I know I need to…”

BUT…

“I know this isn't good for me…”

BUT…

And sometimes that BUT is legitimate.

Life happens. We get tired. Things don't always go according to plan. We have responsibilities, disappointments, emotions, unexpected circumstances and days where quite honestly, we are just not feeling it.

I'm not talking about pretending those things don't exist.

I'm talking about when BUT becomes our automatic escape route.

When it stops being an explanation and starts becoming an excuse.

When we use it to make ourselves feel better about a choice we already know isn't really helping us.

And that is where I think the Holy Spirit has been doing a bit of work on me lately.

Because sometimes conviction isn't about God telling you something you don't know.

Sometimes it is Him gently—or not so gently—reminding you about something you already know.

And that can be uncomfortable.

I am actually very good at this too

One of the things I have noticed about myself is that I can be incredibly disciplined when something matters to somebody else,

Give me a commitment.

Give me a client.

Give me a race.

Give me a deadline.

Give me a responsibility.

Tell me somebody is counting on me.

I'll probably find a way.

And I think a lot of us are like that.

We can perform when there is an external expectation.

We can show up when somebody else is watching.

We can push when there is a medal, a pay check, a deadline, a race number or somebody waiting for us.

But... when nobody is watching?

When the reward is simply feeling better, being healthier, becoming stronger, growing spiritually, becoming a better version of ourselves?

Suddenly things get a little harder.

Nobody is clapping because you chose the salad.

Nobody gives you a medal because you went for the walk.

Nobody sends you a certificate because you had the difficult conversation.

Nobody sees the moment you chose not to react. Nobody sees the back you turned on something or someone

Nobody knows that you got out of bed when you really wanted to stay there.

And that is where character is built.

In those little moments when there isn't an audience.

At some point, we have to stop asking why

There comes a point where we have to stop asking:

“Why am I like this?”

and start asking:

“What am I going to do differently?”

That doesn't mean beating yourself up.

It doesn't mean deciding that everything you've done up until now was wrong.

And it certainly doesn't mean that you are a bad person.

Sometimes it simply means admitting:

“The person I have become isn't necessarily the person I want to remain.”

And that is actually quite hopeful.

Because if you can recognise it, you can start doing something about it. This can be the difference between surviving and thriving. 

We make change much more complicated than it needs to be

We tend to think we need this massive life-changing moment.

Monday.

The first of the month.

New Year's Day.

A new diet.

A new training plan.

A complete life overhaul. A New Job.

And then we put so much pressure on ourselves that we don't even start.

I have been thinking a lot about those tiny decisions.

Those little moments where we get to choose.

I can, BUT…

I can go for that walk, but I'm tired.

I can eat better, but I've had a rough day.

I can train, but I don't feel like it.

I can make the phone call, but it is going to be uncomfortable.

I can apologise, but what if they don't apologise back?

I can say no, but what will they think of me?

I can stop doing this thing I know isn't good for me, but I've always done it.

And honestly?

Sometimes the entire battle is sitting inside that one word.

BUT.

Your brain is learning from you all the time

This is where the science and the faith actually meet beautifully for me.

Our brains learn patterns.

What we repeatedly do becomes easier to do.

We build pathways.

We reinforce habits.

We create automatic responses.

And that means the behaviour you've repeated for years can feel like “this is just who I am.”

But it isn't necessarily who you have to remain.

You can learn new pathways.

You can practise new responses.

You can start doing something differently.

And eventually, the new thing starts becoming less difficult.

That is why Romans 12:2 speaks about being “transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

Renewing.

Not pretending.

Not erasing everything.

Renewing.

And I really love that.

Because maybe becoming a new person isn't about hating the old you.

Maybe it's about understanding her/him, learning from her/him, forgiving her where necessary—and then deciding that she doesn't get to make every decision anymore.

Ephesians 4 talks about putting off the old self and putting on the new self.

Colossians 3 says something very similar.

And I think sometimes we make that sound incredibly spiritual and complicated.

But maybe part of it is simply:

Stop practising what you are trying to leave behind.

Start practising what you want to become.

Maybe Me Now

This is where the whole Maybe Me Now thing comes in for me.

Because I don't want to keep saying, Because Honestly I Did....

“Someday I'll…”

Someday I'll get healthier.

Someday I'll become disciplined.

Someday I'll sort that out.

Someday I'll have the courage.

Someday I'll make the change.

Someday I'll become the person I know I can be.

No.

Maybe me now.

Not perfect me.

Not finished me.

Not the Instagram version of me who has everything together.

Just me now, making a slightly better decision than I made yesterday.

That feels achievable.

I don't have to fix my whole life today.

I need to make the next decision.

And then the next one.

And then the next one. And the one that makes you feel like you can get up and Thrive every day, Not drag through your day, Not struggle to face what ever you need to. BUT thrive. 

But here is where Scripture gets uncomfortable

Because sometimes we don't actually have a knowledge problem.

We have a doing problem.

We know.

And we don't do it.

James 4:17 says:

“Anyone who knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.”

That verse has been sitting with me.

Because we tend to think about sin as the really big, obvious things.

But sometimes it is much more ordinary.

I know I should apologise.

I don't.

I know I should stop.

I don't.

I know I should tell the truth.

I don't.

I know I should make the right choice.

And I deliberately choose something else. Micro decisions. YES...its a decision even though we feel its automatic....its a decision. 

Ouch.

That is where I don't want to use grace as an excuse.

Grace is not permission to stay stuck.

Grace means I can admit I got it wrong without believing I am hopeless.

1 John 1:9 reminds us that when we confess, God forgives and cleanses us.

So when I mess it up?

I don't need to sit there beating myself up for three days.

I need to own it.

Learn from it.

Ask God to help me.

And choose again.

I don't think God expects perfection

This is important to me.

Because if this whole message becomes:

“Just be more disciplined. Try harder. Do better.”

then we've missed something.

I don't believe God is asking me to become some perfect version of myself.

I believe He is asking me to walk with Him.

Galatians 5:16 tells us to walk by the Spirit.

So perhaps instead of always asking:

“Can I do this?”

I should sometimes be asking:

“Holy Spirit, what are You asking me to do here?”

And then actually listen.

That's the bit that can be difficult.

Because sometimes I already know the answer.

I just don't like it.

Choose Your Hard

This is another thing I keep coming back to.

Everything has a hard.

Training is hard.

Not training is hard.

Eating well can be hard.

Feeling like you have no control over your food choices is hard. Doing things so I feel better is hard.  Feeling like crap everyday is hard. 

Setting boundaries is hard.

Being constantly drained is hard.

Having discipline is hard.

Living with regret is hard.

Changing is hard.

Staying exactly where you are is hard.

So maybe we should stop asking:

“How do I make this easy?”

Maybe the better question is:

“Which hard am I willing to choose?”

Because there is a difference between hard that is taking you somewhere and hard that is keeping you stuck.

Training for something is hard.

But so is wishing you had looked after your body sooner.

Having the difficult conversation is hard.

But so is carrying the weight of something you never dealt with.

Saying no is hard.

But so is constantly saying yes and resenting everyone because of it.

Choosing discipline is hard.

But so is repeatedly dealing with the consequences of choosing comfort.

Jesus never promised that following Him would always be comfortable.

In Matthew 7:13–14, He talks about the narrow road.

The narrow road isn't necessarily the easy road.

Sometimes the right road is the harder road.

So choose your hard.

Start smaller than you think

This is where I think we can really help ourselves.

Don't decide tomorrow that you're going to become an entirely different person.

Start ridiculously small.

When your brain says:

“I can, BUT…”

try answering:

“I can, AND…”

I can go for a walk, and it can be ten minutes.

I can eat better, and I can start with this meal.

I can train, and I can put my shoes on first.

I can change, and I don't have to change everything today.

I can pray, and it can be five quiet minutes.

I can apologise, and I can simply start the conversation.

I can become different, and I can practise that person with this one decision.

That is the point.

We're not trying to win our entire life in one day.

We're trying to make the next right choice.

And maybe those tiny choices matter more than we realise

Luke 16:10 talks about being faithful in little things.

I think we often want God to give us the big opportunity.

The big breakthrough.

The big purpose.

The big answer.

But what if we are being prepared for those things in the tiny decisions nobody else sees?

The decision to get up.

The decision to keep your word.

The decision to tell the truth.

The decision to apologise.

The decision to forgive.

The decision to say no.

The decision to put the phone down.

The decision to go for the walk.

The decision to choose the food that serves your body.

The decision to stop scrolling and actually sleep.

The decision to do the right thing when nobody would ever know if you didn't.

Those things might feel small.

But they aren't necessarily insignificant.

They are practice.

And yes… I have written about this before

This is probably the part where some of you are thinking:

“BUT, haven't you written this already?”

There is that word again! Yes.

Yes, I have.

😂

here's the thing.

Sometimes we need to hear the same message more than once.

And if I'm honest, sometimes I need to hear it more than once too.

The fact that I have written about something before doesn't mean I have mastered it.

Writing about discipline doesn't mean I never make excuses.

Talking about healthy choices doesn't mean I never choose the easy one.

Talking about faith doesn't mean I never struggle.

Talking about growth doesn't mean I have finished growing.

Quite the opposite.

Maybe the fact that I keep coming back to these things means they are still important.

Maybe the Holy Spirit keeps putting them in front of me because there is still work to do.

Not condemnation.

Conviction.

And I think there is a massive difference.

Condemnation says:

“You are a failure.”

Conviction says:

“You know this isn't where you're supposed to stay.”

One makes you want to hide.

The other invites you to change.

And I choose the invitation.

Maybe Me Now

So maybe today isn't about fixing everything.

Maybe today is about being honest.

Where am I using BUT as an excuse?

What do I already know I need to do?

Where am I asking God for an answer when I already know what He is asking me to do?

What old pattern am I continuing to feed?

What new pathway do I need to start practising?

What hard am I choosing?

And what is the next right decision?

Because maybe the person I want to become isn't actually some completely different person.

Maybe he/she is already there.

Maybe I just need to start making decisions that line up with him/her.

One decision.

Then another.

Then another.

And eventually (Not in a week or month but Over MONTHS) those decisions become habits.

Those habits become patterns.

Those patterns become a lifestyle.

And that lifestyle starts shaping who I am.

Not overnight.

Not perfectly.

But consistently.

And perhaps that is the reminder I—and maybe you—need today.

You don't have to become the finished version of yourself today.

You don't have to get everything right.

You don't have to wait for Monday.

Or January.

Or the perfect circumstances.

You don't have to wait until you feel motivated.

You don't have to wait until life settles down.

You can start with the next decision.

Put off what no longer belongs.

Put on what does.

Renew your mind.

Walk by the Spirit.

Do what you already know is right.

Get back up when you fall.

Give yourself grace.

But don't use grace as an excuse to stay exactly where you are.

And when that little voice says:

“I can, BUT…”

maybe answer it with:

“I can, AND…”

I can start.

I can try again.

I can choose differently.

I can learn.

I can grow.

I can obey.

I can become.

Maybe Me Now.

Not someday me.

Not perfect me.

Not when everything is sorted-out me.

Me. Now.

Because maybe the new person I keep saying I want to become starts with the very small decision I make...

right now.

And maybe, just maybe,

that's enough for today.