Recycling the Checklist

This post was originally written in 2013 and is shared here as part of The Joy Journal archive. It reflects my understanding and faith journey at that time.

Over the past several months, my heart has been unsettled by a truth that feels both freeing and disruptive:

where I end up after this life is not dependent on what I do.

I have been surrounded by Christian beliefs, practices, and teachings for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t until a difficult season late in my teenage years that I made a conscious decision to follow Jesus. At the time, that decision quietly turned into a mental do-good checklist. Go to church every Sunday. Follow the Ten Commandments. Do daily devotions. Pray before meals. Try harder. Be better.

In college, I studied theology and filled my head with knowledge. And yet, there was a disconnect—about fourteen inches worth—the distance between my head and my heart.

Over the years, I’ve heard a lot of well-intentioned preaching that sounds like: Do this. Do that. Each message added another item to the list. And honestly?

I’m done with the checklist. It’s being recycled.

I’m tired of feeling guilty for not joining the right group, serving in the expected ways, or checking the right spiritual boxes. Loving Jesus means living on mission where I am—where He has placed me. I no longer want to chase someone else’s definition of what a faithful life should look like.

I want to live by Jesus’ invitation: Love Me. Know Me.

That’s it.

What God places in my heart should be what compels me to move. When Jesus encountered a hungry crowd at the end of a long day, He saw their need, felt compassion, and acted (Mark 8:1–13). He didn’t outsource the moment or wait for a better opportunity. He was on a mission right where He stood.

Lately, I hear a lot of “move, and then you will know God”.

But I want to know God and then move.

I could feed a city. I could travel across the world. I could serve endlessly, give everything away, and exhaust myself for the sake of ministry and none of it would secure my salvation. If God calls me to something, I will go. But I refuse to live under pressure to fulfill expectations that aren’t His. He is the author of my days, and because He spoke the world into existence, I will trust Him with my life.

Scripture makes this clear. In Titus 3:5–7, we’re reminded that Jesus saved us not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of His mercy. He gave us new life through the Holy Spirit, not as a reward, but as a gift. My place in God’s family is already secured—not by effort, but by grace.

No amount of good works can save me more than I’ve already been saved. Trying to earn what has already been freely given is like climbing a mountain after you’ve already reached the summit.

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.”
—Ephesians 2:8–9