The Next Right Thing

make a poem that does not disturb the silence from which it came

Despite what social media would have me believe, it’s not my job to change the world. And it’s not my job to have an opinion on every single thing that happens to every single person in every single situation. It’s just not. I’m writing this as a reminder to myself because, honestly, the urge to dive headfirst into every injustice and frustrating situation is heavy right now. But I also need to remember what isn’t my job. It’s so easy to get distracted—honestly, distraction might be the name of the game these days.

Never in human history have we had access to this much information. I know that’s not exactly groundbreaking news, but it’s worth repeating. Because this is not normal. A 24-hour news cycle? Not normal. Constantly hearing strangers’ opinions about other strangers? Not normal. Trying to debate complex topics in tiny sound bites through “comments” instead of actual, long, in-person conversations? Yeah… also not normal. This is not normal!

This year, I decided to say goodbye to big, overwhelming goals and efforts. Instead, I’m focusing on the micro-wins—after all, our lives are just a collection of our days, right? The goal isn’t to run a half-marathon, but can I run two miles today? The goal isn’t to read 25 books, but did I read a couple of pages? You get the idea.

I didn’t fully realize how overwhelmed I was by the constant flood of news—entertainment, gossip, politics, both nationally and globally—until now. It’s made me take a step back and really think about my job on this earth. As a Christ-follower, I believe my main job is to bring glory to God. I want my life to look more like Jesus every day, but what does that practically look like? Becoming more like Jesus isn’t about taking giant leaps; it’s about taking life one day at a time. It’s about simply doing the next right thing.

The next right thing? Cutting down my phone use. Surprise! (Okay, not a surprise.) And it’s not just about social media—though, yes, I probably need to touch some grass. But I also need to read that book, watch that movie, have coffee with that friend, and most importantly, seek God. Social media, with its deceptive version of "community," isn’t real. But my attention? That’s real, and it’s valuable. It needs to be focused on what actually matters. How am I serving my wife and kids? How am I making progress at work? Am I taking care of my body, mind, and emotional well-being? Am I loving my friends well? Am I creating? Am I present? These things matter to God. And I bring Him the most glory when I’m fully engaged in them. And just to be clear—this mental and emotional reset isn’t about inaction in the face of injustice. Far from it. Sometimes, the next right thing is joining a protest, writing a think piece, speaking truth to power, or finding some other creative way to engage with our world.

So here’s to the next right thing. I hope these words serve as a nudge for you —a reminder that you don’t have to accept every opportunity to feel overwhelmed. There’s a better way. Breathe. Whatever challenges come our way, we’ll face them together—in real life. This world isn’t spinning out of control faster than God’s control. So, I commit—to God, my community, and the next right thing.

-L

How to be a Poet, Wendell Berry

i

Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill—more of each

than you have—inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity. Any readers

who like your poems,

doubt their judgment.

ii

Breathe with unconditional breath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly. Live

a three-dimensioned life;

stay away from screens.

Stay away from anything

that obscures the place it is in.

There are no unsacred places;

there are only sacred places

and desecrated places.

iii

Accept what comes from silence.

Make the best you can of it.

Of the little words that come

out of the silence, like prayers

prayed back to the one who prays,

make a poem that does not disturb

the silence from which it came.