Creating the Place in Between Your Thoughts and God

Lately, I’ve been catching myself in the same mental loops.

Nothing dramatic. No big crisis. Just those quiet...persistent thoughts that feel true mostly because they’ve been around for a long time.

"I should be handling this better."

"If my faith were stronger, this wouldn’t bother me."

"Why am I still stuck here?"

They show up softly.

Almost politely.

And because they sound familiar, I tend to believe them without much resistance.

Here’s what I’m learning, though, and I’m still very much in it.

Naming a thinking trap is helpful, but it isn’t the healing. Awareness opens the door, but it doesn’t do the work by itself.

The healing starts when we frame it.

Framing is where we slow down enough to look at a thought instead of immediately obeying it. Where we pause and ask questions that feel a little uncomfortable at first.

Is that actually true?

Where did I learn to believe that about myself?

Is this a belief I want to carry into my relationship with God?

Because some of the thoughts we repeat didn’t come from Him.

They came from comparison. From old wounds. From cultural pressure. From moments when we misunderstood who God is and who we are to Him. And sometimes they came from trying to survive something hard with the tools we had at the time.

So I’ve been practicing creating a small place in between.

Sometimes it looks like journaling in the morning, before my brain fully wakes up and starts managing everything. Sometimes it’s a quiet walk where I pretend I’m just moving my body, but really I’m listening to what keeps rising to the surface. Sometimes it’s turning off the radio in the car and noticing what my mind immediately fills the space with.

That part is usually very honest.

In that space, I ask different questions. Not fixing questions. Curious ones.

"When do I get defensive?"

"Where do I slip into all or nothing thinking, or those constant should statements?"

"How is this way of thinking helping me?"

"How is it hurting me?"

And then the one that almost always softens everything.

"What would I say to someone I love if they were thinking this way?"

I’m almost always kinder there. Slower. More patient. Less demanding.

I’ve also noticed something else. When my thoughts start looping, justifying, explaining, rehearsing conversations that haven’t happened yet, logic usually isn’t the real problem.

Fear is.

Fear of being misunderstood.

Fear of being hurt.

Fear of not being enough, spiritually or otherwise.

So now, instead of trying to out think the thought, I pause and ask, "What am I actually afraid of?"

That question has done more for my spiritual growth than trying to think better ever did.

Framing your thoughts isn’t about positivity. It’s about truth. It’s about letting Christ gently shine light on the stories you’ve been telling yourself, and choosing, with Him, which ones you’re ready to release.

Maybe today isn’t about fixing your thoughts.

Maybe it’s about sitting with them long enough to hear His voice instead.

And I think that counts as faith too. 🤍