She's Choosing Differently
Part 3 of 4 - The Resurrection Power: Your New Season
When the Shift Starts with One Small “No” and One Quiet “Yes”
I almost said yes again.
The text came in at 9:47 PM. Another ask. Another favor. Another thing that would cost me sleep, my peace, and a piece of myself I was just starting to get back.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. The old me would have already typed “Of course! Happy to help!” with a smiley face emoji I didn’t mean.
But something was different this time. I felt it in my chest. That same flutter from a few weeks ago. The one that whispered: you don’t have to do this.
So I put the phone down. Facedown. On the nightstand.
And I didn’t pick it up. I have a rule: after 10 PM, I don’t answer the phone. And if I’m exhausted, I don’t answer it any time of day. Because in a true emergency, there is nothing I could do that a trained first responder couldn’t handle better. That rule didn’t come from selfishness. It came from finally learning what was mine to carry and what wasn’t.
It was the smallest thing. But it was everything. Because for the first time in longer than I could remember, I chose myself. Not out of selfishness. Out of survival. Out of the quiet knowing that I couldn’t keep pouring from a cup that had been empty for months.
That moment? That’s not weakness. That’s the beginning of resurrection.
***
The Verse They Got Wrong
Let’s talk about Philippians 4:13 for a second. Because if you grew up anywhere near a church, you’ve seen it on coffee mugs, T-shirts, and probably a few tattoos.
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
We’ve turned this verse into a battle cry for doing more. Hustling harder. Pushing through. It’s become the Christian version of “no pain, no gain.” The grind! Often times leading to anxiety and worthlessness if you don’t achieve the results that may not have been intended for you.
But that’s not what Paul was saying. Not even close.
10But I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at last your care for me has flourished again; though you surely did care, but you lacked opportunity. 11Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: 12 I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. 13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. -Philippians 4:10-13
When you read the full passage, Philippians 4:10-13, Paul isn’t talking about conquering the world. He’s talking about contentment.
He’s writing from a prison cell, telling the church at Philippi that he’s learned a secret: how to be okay whether he has plenty or nothing. Whether life is easy or brutal.
The “all things” he can do through Christ? That’s not running a marathon or landing a promotion. It’s being at peace when the world around him is falling apart. It’s finding sufficiency in God when his circumstances offer him none.
That changes everything for you.
Because if contentment isn’t about doing more, if it’s about a posture of the heart, then you don’t have to earn your way to peace. You don’t have to fix every broken thing in your life before you’re allowed to exhale. You can choose differently right now, right in the middle of the mess, and that choice itself is the strength Paul is talking about.
***
What Choosing Differently Actually Looks Like
I want to be careful here, because “choosing differently” can sound like another item on an already impossible to-do list. So let me be clear: this is not about a total life overhaul. This is about tiny pivots that signal to your brain, your body, and your spirit that something has changed.
Choosing differently looks like saying “I can’t take that on right now” without apologizing for it.
It looks like leaving the dishes in the sink and going to bed at a decent hour because your rest matters more than a clean kitchen.
It looks like opening your Bible for five minutes instead of scrolling for forty-five, not because you’re being “good,” but because you’re hungry for something real.
It looks like telling a friend the truth when she asks how you’re doing. Not the Instagram version. The real one.
It looks like going for a walk at lunch instead of eating at your desk again. It looks like pulling out that old journal. It looks like letting yourself cry in the car and not feeling ashamed of it.
None of these are dramatic. All of them are defiant. Because every tiny choice that says “I matter too” is an act of rebellion against the lie that you exist only to serve everyone else’s needs. You were never meant to serve out of obligation. That’s not ministry. That’s the very thing that got you here.
***
The Science of Small Choices
Here’s something researchers have found that I think will encourage you: the size of the change doesn’t determine the size of the impact.
Stanford behavior scientist BJ Fogg spent years studying how habits form, and his conclusion was surprising. Lasting change doesn’t come from motivation or willpower. It comes from making the behavior so small that you can’t fail. He calls them “tiny habits.” Two pushups instead of a full workout. One sentence in a journal instead of three pages. Putting your shoes by the door instead of committing to a 5K.
The reason this works is neurological. Every time you complete a small positive action, your brain releases a tiny hit of dopamine, the same chemical associated with reward and motivation. Over time, these micro-wins create new neural pathways. Your brain starts defaulting to the healthier pattern, not because you forced it, but because you trained it gently.
God made your brain this way on purpose. He designed you so that small, faithful steps would compound into transformation. You don’t have to overhaul your life by next Tuesday. You just have to make one different choice today. And then another one tomorrow.
That’s not just science. That’s grace with a blueprint.
***
Boundaries Are Not Selfish (Say It Again)
I know this one is hard. Especially if you were raised to believe that being a good Christian woman means being available to everyone, all the time, no matter what.
But can I show you something? Even Jesus set boundaries.
35 Now in the morning, having risen a long while before daylight, He went out and departed to a solitary place; and there He prayed. 36 And Simon and those who were with Him searched for Him. 37 When they found Him, they said to Him, “Everyone is looking for You.”
38 But He said to them, “Let us go into the next towns, that I may preach there also, because for this purpose I have come forth.” -Mark 1:35-38
In Mark 1:35-38, Jesus had just finished a night of healing the sick. The whole town was at the door. The next morning, the disciples came looking for Him, basically saying, “Everyone is looking for You!” And do you know what Jesus said? He said, “Let us go somewhere else.”
He didn’t stay. He didn’t meet every need. He withdrew to pray. He moved on to the next place. Not because He didn’t care, but because He knew His purpose and He refused to let urgency override it.
If Jesus, the Son of God, the Healer, the One with unlimited power, said “not right now,” then you can too.
Setting a boundary isn’t saying “I don’t care.” It’s saying “I can’t pour into you from a place of emptiness and give you anything real.” It’s saying “I trust God enough to know that if I step back, He’ll cover what I can’t.”
That’s not selfish. That’s stewardship of the life He gave you.
***
Your Money, Your Peace (Yes, We’re Going There)
I want to touch on something we don’t talk about enough in faith spaces: financial stress.
Because here’s what I’ve noticed. A lot of the overwhelm that women carry isn’t just emotional or spiritual. It’s financial. It’s lying awake wondering how the bills are getting paid. It’s saying yes to overtime you don’t have the energy for because you need the money. It’s the guilt of buying something for yourself when the budget is tight.
Contentment, the kind Paul talks about, includes your finances. Not because money doesn’t matter, but because God’s sufficiency covers that too.
Choosing differently with your money might look like sitting down for 15 minutes this week and actually looking at where it’s going. Not to shame yourself. Just to see clearly. It might look like canceling one subscription you forgot about. It might look like having an honest conversation with your spouse about what’s stressing you out financially.
Proverbs 27:23 says, “Be sure you know the condition of your flocks, give careful attention to your herds.” That’s not about sheep. That’s about stewardship. And stewardship starts with awareness.
Peace with your money is part of the resurrection too. You deserve to breathe easy there.
The First Time I Chose Differently
In 2012, I was working for a major university, helping adults earn their degrees. Bachelor’s, master’s, even doctorates. It was one of the best jobs I’d ever had. The pay was good. The culture was genuinely student-centric in a way that made me proud to show up every day. And for the first time in a long time, I was starting to see a path out of debt.
If you remember 2012, the world was still catching its breath from the 2008 real estate collapse. The economy was technically “recovering,” but it didn’t feel like recovery for most of us. Industries were still contracting. Companies were still cutting. And the people who could least afford another hit were the ones absorbing most of the blows. If that sounds familiar right now, with inflation and uncertainty pressing in from every side, it’s because the details change but the weight doesn’t. Different decade, same heaviness.
Then one afternoon, I was called into the office.
My supervisor, a man I loved dearly, was sitting there with tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to deliver the news, but the industry was shifting, and I was being let go. Our team was like a little family. We used to call ourselves the Bad News Bears. We’d bonded over beach trips and shared meals at a tiny restaurant where we sat shoulder to shoulder, turning our tears and differences into laughter and genuine respect for one another. Losing that job meant losing them too.
My supervisor walked me to my car that day, carrying that box for me. You know the one. The box that tells the world, “Today was my last day.” We embraced. And that was the last time I saw him. A year later, he passed away from cancer. That broke my heart in ways I still feel today.
But here’s where the financial reality hit.
That job, the one that was supposed to be my way out, was gone. And after eight layoffs over the course of my career, the debt had compounded. Credit cards. Taxes. A car payment. The envelopes started coming in white, then pink, then yellow. You know what those colors mean. I was running from every one of them.
I knew I needed help. So I did something that terrified me: I pursued a legal fresh start.
I found an attorney with an MBA, which mattered to me because I needed someone who could think beyond just the numbers. He asked questions that went deep, but he made me feel safe. He worked out a plan: five years of structured payments. I got to keep my car. The taxes were resolved. The credit cards were managed.
And then came the day I stood before the judge. He asked me one question: why? I gave him one sentence: “Due to eight layoffs.” He stamped the paperwork so fast it took my breath away. Just like that. A lifetime of financial weight, acknowledged and released in a single moment. I walked out with a five-year repayment plan and a commitment I’d never had before: this time, things would be different.
That decision, the one I was terrified to make, became my turning point. It taught me something I had never truly practiced before: financial consistency. Not just paying bills, but actually knowing the condition of my finances and refusing to run from them.
Today, my credit is in a place I never could have imagined. I have opportunities I couldn’t have dreamed of back then. And more than the numbers, I have peace. The kind Paul talks about in Philippians 4. The kind that comes from trusting that God is your source, even when it comes to your bank account.
That legal fresh start was my first real “no” to the chaos and my first real “yes” to stewardship. It was terrifying. It was humbling. And it was one of the most freeing choices I’ve ever made.
If you’re carrying financial shame right now, if the envelopes are piling up and you can’t breathe, hear me: there is no shame in asking for help. There is no shame in starting over. The economy may be shaking, but your God is not. He met me in the aftermath of a real estate crisis, and He’ll meet you in whatever storm is pressing against your door today. That’s not just grace. That’s resurrection.
***
The Strength to Be Still
Here’s the beautiful paradox of this week’s passage: the strength Paul found wasn’t the strength to do more. It was the strength to need less. The strength to stop striving. The strength to sit in a prison cell and say, “I have learned to be content.”
Learned. That word matters. It means contentment didn’t come naturally to Paul either. He had to practice it. He had to choose it. Over and over, in every circumstance, he had to remind himself that Christ was enough.
You’re learning too. And the fact that you’re still here, still reading, still seeking, still fighting for your own soul, tells me you’re further along than you think.
You used to say yes to everything. Now you’re growing. You couldn’t put the phone down. Now you’re choosing differently. You thought contentment was for other people. Now you’re starting to taste it.
And Easter is just around the corner. The ultimate story of what happens when death doesn’t get the last word. When the stone rolls away and everything that looked finished starts over.
Your stone is rolling. Can you hear it?
***
Your Turn
What’s one thing you’re choosing differently this week?
It doesn’t have to be big. Maybe it’s a boundary. Maybe it’s rest. Maybe it’s an honest conversation you’ve been avoiding.
Drop it in the comments, even if it’s just: “I’m choosing me today.”💛
And if you know a woman who needs permission to put her phone facedown and choose herself tonight, send this her way. She’s one small “no” away from a breakthrough.
You don’t have to do it all. You just have to do the next right thing.
—Blessing and joy,
Thank you for reading and sharing this article. If this is your first time here, ‘hello and welcome!’ If you are returning, Subscribe⬇️ and receive this newsletter directly to your inbox.
✨P.S. This is Part 3 of 4: The Resurrection Power series: Your New Season. Take a moment and check out the previous articles “She’s Still Breathing, But Barely” and “Something is Stirring.”
📢The 30 Day E-Devotional is coming and pre-orders begin soon. I’m excited to be able to share this with you with a ‘sneak peek’ in the days to come.
