What We Reach for on Autopilot
December has a way of exposing what's actually running our lives.
Not our best intentions--but what comes out when things go off plan.
The quote I wish wasn't true from James Clear “We do not rise to the level of our goals. We fall to the level of our systems.” And December has a way of reveling the cracks in those systems with uncomfortable clarity.
In the rush of the season, what we reach for on autopilot becomes obvious….and sometimes a little depressing. So a few years ago, I started a small December practice: I choose one habit I want to carry into the new year and start it early.
The strategy is simple. If I can practice it in the chaos of December, I build confidence and momentum heading into January.
This year’s habit?
Eliminating time-wasters from my phone.
I have a highly addictive, all-in personality. For a long time, I carried shame about that. I’ve learned to see it differently—God made me this way, and when it’s rightly aimed, He can use it powerfully. (Noah didn’t exactly half-commit to building the ark, right?!)
But when that same compulsion is aimed at distractions? It’s not great.🫣
I don't dabble in a TV series. If I start one, sleep, next-day productivity, and attentiveness are the first causalities. If I open a good novel, that sucker will be finished within 24 hours.
Games like Candy Crush? Not for me. I can lose hours without realizing it.
Maybe yours looks different.
Social media scrolling.
Online shopping.
Dreaming on Airbnb about a trip you don’t have planned yet.
I don’t think this struggle is unique. Honestly, I think distraction is one of the enemy’s most effective strategies—not loud or scary, just quiet and consistent
.
I’ve been re-reading The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer, and it’s been so timely. A theme standing out: we’ve lost the ability to do nothing.
When was the last time you drank your coffee without scrolling?
Sat still without multitasking?
Watched a show without folding laundry and checking your phone?
We almost panic when we don’t feel busy, and we carry our busyness like a badge of honor.
“How are you?”
“Oh, I'm good, just busy.”
This week, I’m practicing letting the panic of a pause roll over me—and not fixing it. Not because I’m unproductive or disengaged from my life—quite the opposite. Because I want my quiet moments to serve me. To fuel me. To help me better for the next moment.
I changed my phone lock screen to ask:
“Is this growing or starving your fruit?”
A simple reminder from Galatians 5:22–23 every time I pick up my phone, to pause and consider what I’m feeding as I unlock it—kindness, goodness, gentleness, self-control… or restlessness and hurry.
John Mark Comer describes his former life like this:
“I feel like a ghost. Half alive, half dead… an undercurrent of nonstop anxiety… mostly I just feel blah...”
And then he asks a question that I pray makes you pause:
What if the life we crave is actually simpler than we think?
After all, Jesus tells us His yoke is easy and His burden is light (Matthew 11:28–30).
Lately, I’ve realized I don’t need more productivity or even social margin.
I need filler margin.
I need to taste my food.
To be fully present with my kids.
To make space to feel alive and notice life around me.
Which brings me to January.
For some, that kind of reset looks like a fast—stepping away from what’s loud so you can hear God more clearly.
For others, it looks like cleaning up what you’re putting into your body—simple, nourishing food that reduces inflammation, brain fog, and fatigue.
For me, it’s a little of both.
If you’re heading into the new year feeling scattered, dulled, or overstimulated, maybe the question isn’t what should I add?
But what might I need to remove?
I’d love to know what that looks like for you.
Small systems shape big lives. May we choose the ones that help us stay present, grounded and faithful.
With Love & Fizz,
Devan