The Ripple and the Radius: Self-Care for a Spiraling World


“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” — Proverbs 4:23
“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” — Romans 12:2
“As a pebble is dropped into a still pond, so do our choices ripple outward.” — Someone like me

Daily writing prompt
How do you practice self-care?

When the world shakes, we return to the radius.


Even when the water moves fast, presence makes the difference. She doesn’t force the ripples—she guides through them.


Bombs are falling again.
Markets lurch.
The world tightens its shoulders in fear.
And I find myself reaching for bread I don’t need, wine I don’t really want, and comfort I’m not sure heals.

This is what I know:
The louder the world becomes, the more precious our inner quiet must be.
And in a world like this—spiraling, shouting, overfed and undernourished—self-care isn’t selfish. It’s survival.
But not the trendy kind. Not scented candles and spa language.

I’m talking about the kind of self-care that prepares you to be a healing presence.
A stone worth dropping.
A ripple that carries peace, not panic.

A quiet formation in a rushing world. The way forward is close, small, and attentive.


Real Self-Care: Five Anchors in a Storm

Here’s how I’ve started caring for myself—not to escape the storm, but to walk through it differently.

1. Tend Your Radius (Mind)

When everything feels out of control, I go small.

I ask, What is mine to tend?
A five-foot radius. A student in front of me. My breath. The story I’m telling myself.

I pray with open hands. I read Scripture slowly—less to conquer it, more to let it read me.
I don’t try to “fix the world.” I try to be faithful with the square foot of soil I’ve been given.

Because self-care begins with attention.
And in a media-soaked world, attention is one of the last sovereign choices I have.


2. Guard the Gate (Body)

I don’t always treat my body like it matters. But it does.
It’s not a billboard. It’s a borrowed tent. A tabernacle.

So I stretch.
I walk.
I go to bed early.
I drink more water than caffeine (well… almost).

And I remind myself: this is not about abs or metrics.
It’s about showing up embodied and awake.
It’s about letting my muscles remember joy.
It’s about honoring this frame that still holds breath.


3. Walk Softly in the Circle (Relationships)

When I’m centered, my kids feel it. My students feel it.
When I’m not, they feel that too.

So I practice presence. I listen more. I pause before reacting.
I try to let people feel safe—not by fixing them, but by being with them.

The ripple begins here. In my house. At the dinner table. In room 119 with the hum of teenage energy.
In every “I see you” I manage to whisper without words.


4. Practice Quiet Resistance (Soul)

This one is hard to write.

Sometimes, I use wine to take the edge off the world.
Sometimes I eat when I’m already full—not of food, but of weariness.
Sometimes I reach for comfort when what I need is communion.

But a friend once asked me:

“What are you not getting from Him that you have to go there?”

That question saved me more than once.

So I fast—not just from food, but from false urgency.
I turn off the scroll. I Sabbath. I breathe.

I say no to things that promise comfort but deliver numbness.
And I say yes to the Spirit, even when the wind howls.


5. Let the Spirit Drop You (Legacy)

I want to be a stone in God’s hand.
Not impressive. Not polished.
Just surrendered.

I want to be dropped into the water of this world and let the ripples carry something real.

Love.
Peace.
Kindness that slows down a heart.
Truth that frees.
Laughter that loosens the fear.

That’s the kind of self-care I’m learning: not an escape—but an equipping.


A Final Confession (and Invitation)

I am not fixed.
The wind still roars some nights.
The weight is still there—on my body and in my bones.
I still pour that second glass sometimes.

But I’m learning this:

God doesn’t ask me to control the storm—just to be present in the boat.

I’m not offering expertise here. I’m offering presence.
And presence is still powerful. It may be all that’s left when the wind returns.

So today, may we guard what’s holy, tend what’s near,
And become—by grace—a ripple worth sending.

Henry flung pebbles into the water,
then stood open-armed,
receiving the splash like applause.


Reflection Prompt

What would it look like to be a stone worth dropping this week?


A Blessing for the Radius

May the Lord quiet the noise and restore your soul.
May your breath return to you like mercy in the morning.
May your hunger be met with bread that satisfies.
May your comfort be found not in escape, but in abiding.
And may your radius—however small—become a ripple of healing in a broken world.


Tags: self-care, spiritual formation, ripple effect, emotional health, abiding in Christ, attention economy, Christian living, soul care, presence, faith and wellness, spiritual resilience, body and soul, quiet resistance, peace in chaos, modern discipleship, Christian blog, legacy living, healing presence, formation not escape

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