Does My Everyday Life Reflect the Jesus I Follow?
I was sitting with this question in my quiet time. A question that I thought might be good for us all to think about. Not just what I believe. Not just what I say. Not just what I post, teach, or share with others. But my actual life.
The way I speak to the people closest to me. The way I respond when I’m frustrated. The way I treat someone who can do absolutely nothing for me. The way I handle interruptions. The way I spend my time. The way I love, forgive, serve, encourage, and show up.
Does that life reflect Jesus?
Because I don’t think God wants my spiritual life and my everyday life to be two separate things. Following Jesus isn’t something I turn on for church, Bible study, prayer time, or ministry. My whole life can become an expression of my relationship with Him.
Paul writes:
“Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.”
— Romans 12:1
A living sacrifice. Not simply a Sunday sacrifice. Not just an hour-in-the-morning sacrifice. A living one.
That means worship can happen in the kitchen, the grocery store, the workplace, the car, the hospital room, the difficult conversation, the ordinary Tuesday afternoon. Our lives can become worship. And maybe even prayer.
Years ago, my sister Sara wrote about the idea of being a living prayer.
Sara spent the last years of her life homebound by chronic illness. Her world became physically very small. There were so many things she couldn’t do and so many places she couldn’t go. And yet, her influence reached far beyond the walls of her home. That has always struck me.
Sara didn’t have to stand on a stage to reflect Jesus. She didn’t need to travel somewhere to serve Him. She didn’t have to wait until her circumstances changed before her life could have purpose. She could live what she believed right where she was.
Her words could encourage someone. Her attention could make someone feel seen. Her response to suffering could demonstrate trust. Her relationships could communicate love. Her choices could become worship. Her life could become a prayer. And I think there is something important for all of us in that.
When we think about prayer, we naturally think about talking to God—and of course, that is prayer. We bring Him our needs. We praise Him. We confess. We listen. We pray for other people.
But Sara’s words challenge me to think about prayer in another way. What if prayer isn’t only something we say to God, but something our lives say about God? What if the way I live today can reflect the One I’ve been talking to?
If I pray, “Lord, help me love people,” and then He puts a difficult person in my path, perhaps my response becomes part of that prayer. If I pray, “Lord, use me,” perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised when my day gets interrupted by someone who needs me. If I pray, “Lord, make me more like You,” perhaps the ordinary frustrations of life become opportunities for patience, grace, humility, and surrender.
Maybe being a living prayer means allowing the things I pray in private to begin showing up in the way I live in public.
And I want to be careful when I say this, because being a living prayer doesn’t mean getting everything right. It doesn’t mean smiling through every difficulty or pretending we never struggle. It certainly doesn’t mean performing Christianity for other people. Jesus isn’t asking us to create the appearance of a perfect Christian life. He’s inviting us to walk with Him so closely that His presence begins to change the way we live. That’s very different.
We don’t become more like Jesus by trying harder to look like Jesus. We spend time with Him. We seek Him. We follow Him. We abide in Him. And slowly, sometimes almost imperceptibly, He changes us.
Our reactions begin to change. Our words begin to change. What matters to us begins to change. How we see people begins to change. And when we get it wrong—and we will—we return to Him again. That’s discipleship.
Sometimes I think we’re waiting for God to give us something important to do while overlooking the life He’s already placed in front of us. But Sara’s life reminds me that there really aren’t many “ordinary” moments when they are surrendered to God.
A phone call can become ministry. A conversation can become encouragement. Listening can become love. Forgiving someone can become obedience. Preparing a meal can become service. Sitting beside someone who is hurting can become compassion. Choosing patience instead of irritation can become worship. Sending a text that says, “I was thinking about you today” can remind someone they aren’t forgotten.
None of those things are spectacular. But they can all reflect Jesus.
A life doesn’t have to be big to make a big difference. It simply needs to be surrendered.
As we begin exploring what it means to Be a Living Prayer, I challenge us not to start with a long list of things we need to do better. I simply want us to notice. Notice the ordinary moments. Notice our reactions. Notice the people God places in front of us. Notice where there might be a disconnect between what I say I believe and how I am actually living.
And then ask:
Jesus, how would You have me live here?
Not someday. Not when life gets easier. Not when we have more time, more energy, more influence, or fewer problems. Here. Today. In this conversation. In this relationship. In this interruption. In this ordinary moment.
Because following Jesus was never intended to be one part of our lives. He is our life.
And perhaps one of the most beautiful ways we can worship Him is to allow the prayer of our hearts to become the way we live.
Here is a thought to carry with you this week…
Does my everyday life reflect the Jesus I follow?
Don’t ask the question with condemnation. Ask it with invitation.
Jesus, walk with me today. Let the way I speak, respond, love, serve, forgive, and live reflect You.
Let my life become a living prayer.
With love and joy,
Laura
Adventure awaits — will you Choose Joy?


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