Saturday Morning Stillness: A Porch, Coffee, and the Dangerous Wanderings of My Mind

Saturday mornings have become a sanctuary. The frantic pace of the week slows, the Louisiana air hangs heavy and still, and my front porch transforms into a space for reflection, a time to tend to the inner landscape of my heart. With a steaming mug of coffee in hand, I often let my mind wander. And that, I'm learning, can be a dangerous thing.

As Romans 8:5-6 reminds me: "Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace." Left to its own devices, my mind can easily gravitate towards the "flesh" – replaying old hurts, fueling resentment, and plotting scenarios that offer only fleeting and ultimately destructive satisfaction. It's a dangerous wandering that leads not to life and peace, but to a stagnant, bitter existence.   

This is why the intentionality of Philippians 4:6-8 has become such a vital anchor for these Saturday mornings: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."   

What comes to your thoughts today as you read this? For me, the immediate pull is often towards the unresolved pain, the lingering sting of betrayal. It takes conscious effort to redirect that mental energy.

Of the passages noted, Philippians 4:6-8 does the best for my soul right now. It's a direct instruction manual for navigating the very mental wanderings I'm prone to.

Did I need to be reminded of it? Absolutely. The default setting of my mind, especially in the quiet of reflection, can easily slip into the familiar grooves of negativity. This passage serves as a gentle but firm course correction.

What is the main benefit we find in these verses that comes from prayerfully focusing on the Lord Jesus Christ and his ways of doing things? 

The central benefit is the promise of a peace that transcends my limited understanding. When I actively choose to bring my anxieties to God in prayer, with gratitude even amidst the pain, and when I intentionally focus my thoughts on what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable – the very character of Christ – then a divine peace guards my heart and mind. It's a peace that doesn't make sense in the face of my circumstances, but it's a steadfast anchor nonetheless.

Dear Friends, Readers, as I sit here on my porch in Shreveport, wrestling with the dangerous wanderings of my own mind, I invite you to consider: how would you describe your own current level of internal peace?

If you feel comfortable, please share your reflections in the comments below. Your vulnerability might be a source of encouragement for someone else on a similar journey.

If sharing publicly feels too daunting, please know that you are not alone. Perhaps today is a day to simply fill out a contact form with a trusted friend or pastor. Or maybe, in the quiet of your own space, just reflect silently. Let the Lord speak to the dangerous wanderings of your own mind, guiding you towards the life and peace that only He can truly offer.