“You Can’t Float Through the Life God Has for You”
- Mark Folk
- May 10
- 2 min read
Updated: May 11
As I’ve been rereading parts of Soul Weathered, I’ve found myself unexpectedly convicted by my own words.
That may sound strange coming from the author of the book, but the truth is, those devotions came out of decades of journals, reflections, failures, prayers, and moments where God met me in real life.
When I started putting the book together, I had hundreds of pages I could have included.
Narrowing it down to 52 devotionals honestly came down to trust.
Trusting the Holy Spirit with what stayed.Trusting Him with how it would land.And maybe most of all—trusting Him to continue working on me through it.
One of the themes that keeps resurfacing for me is this idea of abundant life.
Not comfort.Not ease.
But a life that is fully alive.
And I think many of us settle for less than that life.
We stay ankle deep.
Safe.Predictable.Controlled.
But following God has never felt that way to me.
It feels more like stepping into a river.
And not a lazy river.
A real one.
Cold water.Current moving. Rocks underneath your feet.
If you’ve ever stepped into moving water, you know something immediately:
You can’t just stand there passively.
You have to interact with it.
You have to adjust your footing.Move with the current. Pay attention.
If you want to stay upright…if you want to navigate the water well…it takes participation.
And I think walking with God is a lot like that.
God says, “Come.”
Come into the life I have for you.Come into the adventure.Come into fullness.
But stepping in requires something from us.
It takes intention.
It takes responsiveness.
It takes leaving the shoreline of comfort and self-protection.
A lot of us want the abundant life…
without ever getting fully in the river.
And I’ve realized something else over the years:
Once you’re in the current, your whole body becomes engaged.
Your arms.Your legs.Your attention.
Everything starts moving with purpose.
That thought reminded me of Paul talking about the struggle of the flesh.
And strangely enough, I think part of the answer is this:
When your life is actively engaged in the movement of God, there’s less room for the flesh to drift into numbness, complacency, or self-absorption.
I’ve seen this lived out in my own father.
Every day, he puts himself into motion serving others.
Visiting people in hospitals.Praying for people.Showing up.Serving quietly and consistently.
He puts his hands, his time, his energy—his whole person—into redemptive work.
And maybe that’s part of what abundant life really is.
Not floating through life waiting for meaning to happen.
But becoming fully engaged with God in the current He’s already moving in.
I can tell you this from experience:
The river can be exhausting sometimes.
But it’s also alive.
And I would rather spend my life learning to move with the current of God…
than standing safely on the shore wondering what I missed.
Let me ask you this—
Are you standing safely at the edge…or have you actually stepped into the current?




Comments