How to Have a Bad Day Step 31: Commit to Writing 31 Blogs in One Month

Just kidding—sort of. Some days I was kicking myself for committing to this. It was a lot more work than I anticipated. Many late nights, some early mornings, and except for three, (and this one obviously) I actually managed to hit my deadlines. Thank you to everyone who read along and encouraged me. You blessed me. And now that this series is wrapped, I’m excited to write about other things I’m passionate and curious about—preferably without the self-inflicted torture of a 31-day sprint.

What Prompted This Madness?

It all started one night when I was sick and trapped in the bathroom (yes, glamorous beginnings). Like everyone else in that situation, I scrolled. And the more I scrolled, the sadder and angrier I got. Drama, complaining, shallow spirituality, vague “prophets” who sound like they’ve never cracked a Bible, and Christians borrowing their life hacks from astrology and self-help memes.

I started to type out a rant: Why do people insist on making life harder than it needs to be? Why so much self-focus? And then a flood of things we do to self sabotage poured into my brain at 2am and this series was born.

I have been convicted, tested, and tried in every single post. August was a REALLY hard month for me. It’s easy to poke fun at everyone else’s bad-day habits. It’s harder to look in the mirror and realize—oops—I do these too. Like all the time.

It's easy for me to go inward and shut out the world so I tell myself this quote often to force me out of my own headspace. I think it's originally from Einstein: “A life not lived for others is not a life worth living.”  We need purpose. We need something greater than our own comfort if we're going to stay sane. We need someone or something to pour into. Streams stay healthy because they flow; without an outlet, they stagnate—and stagnant water is always toxic.

I realized through the course of the month that this is the heart of the matter: no one ever posts, “How can I be more giving? More patient? More forgiving? More content?” Instead, it’s wall-to-wall rants about how we’ve been wronged, how awful “people” are, and 68 shiny new strategies to stay loyal to the world’s favorite idol—me.

Without an outward focus, our souls rot. Without giving, serving, and pouring into others, we stagnate. And stagnant water attracts the kind of creatures we don't want. Flowing water gives life and keeps the evil nasties out of our head. We weren’t made for self-obsession—we were made to flow. Jesus said, “Whoever believes in Me, rivers of living water will flow from within them” (John 7:38).

Fruit: The Evidence of Living Water

Most of us are hyper-focused on what we can get—out of relationships, church, marriage, and life in general—and we completely miss the point of what we’re meant to be. We weren’t created to hoard life for ourselves; we were created to be conduits of it. Channels, not containers.

We love to self-assess: “I’m a kind/patient/self-controlled person.” Oh really? Says who? I’m incredibly kind and patient right now… sitting alone in my office with my bird. But after the fourteenth round of “MOOOOOMMMMYYYY!” from upstairs, that kindness and patience is tested. Suddenly, the fruit of the Spirit isn’t measured by what I say about myself—it’s revealed in how I walk up those stairs and respond to my children. And that’s the point. God isn’t trying to transform me for me. He’s shaping me for them. And for you. And for everyone else my life touches.

Take an actual fruit tree as an example. It doesn’t exist to admire its own apples or oranges. Its fruit isn’t for itself—it feeds others, refreshes others, sustains others, and even carries within it the seed to reproduce itself. That’s the Kingdom picture. And just like that tree, when the Spirit flows through us, fruit happens: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22–23). Not forced, not faked, not posted about to make us look holy—but grown naturally as we stay rooted in Him.

Notice that? It comes naturally. The tree doesn’t strive or force itself into production. It doesn’t sit in anxiety trying to “figure out” what kind of fruit it should grow. It doesn’t brag to the other trees about how great its fruit is or hoard it for itself. It simply abides in the soil, drinks in the water, soaks up the sun—and fruit happens.

Jesus called Himself the true vine (John 15:1–5). Our job isn’t to force fruit—it’s to abide. Stay rooted in Him. Stay connected. And His Spirit will produce what we cannot. Fruit so others can taste and see that the Lord is good.

Your love may be the only love someone eats today. Your peace may be the only calm they encounter. Your gentleness may be the only safety they experience. But just as we feed others, the fruit of others is meant for us too. Their joy strengthens us. Their kindness refreshes us. Their faith encourages us to keep walking. That’s how the Kingdom works.

Living Water and Fruit are Evidence You Abide in the Kingdom

I didn’t start out this month thinking about the Kingdom. I just wanted to write sarcastic posts about our dumb habits. It all began as a response to things I see people do—patterns that make their days far worse than they need to be. But as I wrote, something kept happening. Again and again, my reflections brought me back to one place: the Kingdom. And I discovered that the entire blueprint for a meaningful, fruitful life is laid out in just three chapters: Matthew 5–7. The Sermon on the Mount.

I’ve half-jokingly told people the church should take out everything else in the Bible until we embrace these 3 chapters. Imagine if we actually did. So many of the debates, divisions, and distractions in the church exist because we’ve abandoned what Jesus says about the Kingdom and operate instead through ego, offenses, and doctrinal pride.

It’s funny—we all say we want to hear from God. But the truth? He already spoke. Why would He tell us anything more when we haven't even obeyed His simple instructions? Jesus said His Kingdom was here and now. Imagine if a whole community decided, together, to walk out Matthew 5–7. To forgive, to love, to serve, to speak truth, to seek first the Kingdom. What would our families look like? Our neighborhoods? Our churches? Our nation?

Can you imagine being part of a community where Matthew 5–7 were the core values? A people actually living as disciples of the King? Where love rules instead of ego, where confession heals instead of shames, and where no one has to hide their wounds and offenses? A place of peace, mercy, with no fear of rejection. That’s what Jesus described—not some abstract future, but a city here and now.

But the truth is, most of us don’t want that. It's too hard and very boring. We want spectacular stuff to be the norm and death to self the exception where it should be the other way around. We gather together to pull down principalities and pray over our cities while lying, cheating, gossiping, and holding grudges against each other. We chase after spiritual highs—dreams, visions, goose bumps, special revelations, prophetic words, gold dust--hoping that if we say the right words God might "show up" and speak to us. I'm not exaggerating. I have lived it and seen it for years and it produces nothing but frustration and empty religion.

After walking through all of that and sincerely trying everything western evangelicalism has to offer, my faith has become simple. And harder. My King isn’t vague or distant anymore—He’s intimate. Uncomfortably intimate. I don't have to jump up and down and do cartwheels to get His attention. I'm resting and abiding now. He has been faithfully exposing what I’d rather hide and burning away illusions I’d prefer to keep. His kingdom is something I crave and resist, all at once.

Jesus' words are as raw, clear, and disruptive as it was the day He preached it. That’s why so many avoid it. Because it doesn’t let us hide in religious games. It calls us out of self-love into cross-bearing. Out of chasing platforms into secret obedience. Out of comfort and self worship into discipleship.

It's time to take His words seriously. Since nothing else seems to be working, what do we have to loose? Oh yeah - our rights, our justifications.....ourselves. So here we are. We've circled back to the beginning of my series. I will be the first to confess these Bad Day habits haven't done a thing to refine or transform me, which is why I'm making the choice to try and do it His way now.

Final Thought

When I started, it was just about poking fun at how we are our own worse enemies and create “bad days” for ourselves. But what I discovered was so much deeper. Every “bad day” habit is really a heart issue, and is just evidence of what happens when we try to build kingdoms of self.

Thirty-one steps later, I’ve been reminded again that the Gospel of the Kingdom is not theory—it’s intentional. It’s daily. It's simply a choice. It’s how we treat our spouse, our kids, our neighbors, and even our enemies.

As I close this series, I leave you with this: don’t settle for just survival. Don’t settle for one more “bad day.” Jesus came to give us life, and show us how to live in His kingdom. Let's believe it. Let’s live it. The world will keep telling you to protect yourself, love yourself, and chase comfort. But Jesus said deny yourself, love others, and carry your cross.

So stop making excuses, step into His Kingdom, and have a good day—today, tomorrow, and forever.