Be Careful Little Eyes What You See

Imagine asking God for clarity while filling your mind with noise.

This used to be my reality. I had become careless with what I was letting into my mind and spirit.

A few years ago, my wife bought me a new laptop for Christmas.

I didn’t ask for it. I was still using her old MacBook Air and was perfectly content with it. She’s the tech-savvy one in our house — the latest iPhone, Apple Watch, gadgets. Me? I usually stick with the basics. She knew I wouldn’t buy a new laptop for myself, so she surprised me.

It was sleek and upgraded — and it meant even more coming from her.

The first thing I did was dedicate it to the Lord.

I literally prayed over it. I asked God to keep my eyes, ears, and hands under His control as I used it.

I had turned our dining room table into a makeshift workstation. My Bible was there. My journals. Notes from work sometimes, as I finished up charts after hours. It was my quiet corner — but I needed it to be holy too.

We had this life-sized cardboard cutout of our son left over from his first birthday party. At one point, I placed it right on the table — facing me.

It was a symbol of accountability.

Every time I sat down, I’d quietly ask myself:

→ Would I go on this website if my son were sitting here?

→ Would I be listening to this song or reading this headline out loud if he were listening?

That visual check-in made me pause.

Because the truth is, I had slipped into old habits.

I had decent boundaries in place — but I also made excuses. Cheat days. Mindless scrolling. Late-night indulgences. I worked hard. I followed the rules. I was a “good husband.”

So I told myself I deserved to escape a little.

Just one more video. Just one more article. Just one more slice of red velvet cheesecake.

I didn’t realize how much those one mores were costing me.

I felt more tired. More impatient. More disconnected from my wife. More entitled to “the finer things” in life — the vacations, the dinners out, the credit card spending that I told myself I’d pay off later.

I was going through the motions and living on emotional autopilot some days.

And then came the fight.

It was Mother’s Day 2018.

We got into an argument over money. I said and did things that were very hurtful, and she ran out of patience with me. I couldn't blame her.

She stayed home from the family gathering that weekend. She didn’t want to show up and pretend like things were fine. So I went by myself and made up a story about why she couldn't make it.

After this, I knew something had to change. But I didn’t know where to start.

I was at my emotional limit and I couldn't fix this on my own.

So I whispered a prayer:

“God, I need You to take over.”

And He did — not all at once, but gently. Over time.

First, He showed me that my frustration wasn’t about my wife or my circumstances. It was about me. What I was allowing into my mind, into my body, and into my spirit.

If I didn’t like what was coming out of me, I had to take responsibility for what I was consuming.

That’s when I started cleaning house.

Here’s what I changed:

1. I stepped away from Instagram. I wasn’t creating anything. Just consuming. Scrolling endlessly. It wasn’t neutral — it was a distraction that I didn’t have the self-control for at the time.

2. I stopped viewing sexual content. Images. Videos. Stories. All of it. It was empty, artificial stimulation that was keeping me from valuing real intimacy and connection in my marriage.

3. I got serious about my mornings. I started reading the Bible every day — even just one verse. I played instrumental worship music. Drank water first. Moved my body. Prayed. Journaled. Not perfectly, but consistently.

4. I read books that stretched me. The Miracle Morning. You Are a Badass. Ask and It Is Given. The 4 Spiritual Laws of Prosperity. Books that represented the life I wanted, not the one I was escaping from. And I read them in print — with a highlighter in hand — because I needed to see and touch new truth.

5. I stopped critiquing my wife. I had judged her for not taking my last name, not being ready for kids when I was, not following a career path I could understand. But God reminded me that she was on her own journey. Grieving her own losses. Discovering her own identity. And I needed to honor that.

Now, 7 years into this journey, I can see how far God has brought me.

I’m not perfect. But I’m healthier.

There’s more peace in my home, more clarity in my mind, and more margin in my spirit for what God wants to do next.

Slowly but surely, I am becoming the person He is calling me to be.

Do I still have rough moments? Of course.

Have I been perfect in my marriage? Far from it.

But I’ve learned: When you make better inputs, you get better outputs.

• Clearer thoughts
• Stronger boundaries
• Deeper love
• Softer responses
• And a heart that actually hears what God is saying

This didn’t happen overnight. But it did happen.

And it started with taking inventory.

What are you feeding your mind and spirit?

What’s something you need to let go to make room for the life God is calling you into?

♻️ Repost if you need to declutter your mental "home"

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