Some people confuse an obsession with what might lurk in the darkness with the true gift of discernment.
Discernment isn’t about checking under every rug for signs of the enemy. That kind of hyper-vigilance leads to exhaustion and anxiety. And honestly, it gives the enemy far too much stage time. He’s not worthy of the spotlight.
I live with a neurological condition that affects my balance. I’ve learned, sometimes the hard way, that walking into a dark room without turning on the light isn’t wise. But when I flip the switch, I don’t need to tiptoe or brace for impact. I walk in with confidence, because the light shows me what’s there… and what’s not.
You could call that discernment, too. I’m not speculating about what might be hidden. I switch on the light and see clearly—even if the truth means it’s time to tidy up.
We’re Not Meant to Be Spiritual Detectives
We weren’t called to be spiritual detectives, always sniffing out demonic activity. Our main calling is to reflect Christ, carrying His presence into every situation. When we bring His light, shadows don’t stand a chance.
Discernment: More Than Red Flags
Discernment matters, but it’s not just about spotting what’s off.
True discernment also sees what God is doing. It notices grace moving quietly in messy places. It hears the Spirit whispering when chaos tries to shout.
I need reminders, too. Discernment isn’t just about red flags; it’s also about green lights.
If we only ever use it to detect problems but miss the purpose or promise, it might be time to adjust our spiritual lenses.
Pointing to the Light
Chasing shadows is exhausting.
I’d rather point people to Jesus—the One who brings clarity, not confusion.
The One who leads me to hope, not suspicion.
The One who gives strategies that restore, not wear me out.
Eyes on What God Is Making Right
I want to be someone who doesn’t just notice what’s wrong, but who quickly sees what God is making right.
Someone who leans in, listens well, and steps forward with a trusting heart, ready to partner with heaven’s solutions.
Until next time,
©2025 Katherine Walden