The Spiritual Discipline of the Sun-Soaked Soul

The Spiritual Discipline of the Sun-Soaked Soul

Over my years of observing people at local gyms (from a comfortable distance, mind you — usually through a window while enjoying a proper coffee), I've had a change of thinking about the people I encounter there.

I used to watch with mild bewilderment as people in great shape went through their exercise routines. I thought they must really enjoy sweating. I assumed they didn't appreciate a fine meal or a good dessert. I figured their metabolism must be completely different than mine.

But when I got to know some of those people, I realized that getting in great shape and staying that way was more than chance or genetics. They had actually taken the time and made the effort to acquire knowledge and cultivate the kind of discipline that was absent in my life.

Here's the revelation: getting in better shape spiritually requires a similar kind of effort — though I've discovered mine looks nothing like a gym routine.

My Training Ground

Let me be clear: you won't find me on a treadmill at 5 AM. That's not my battlefield.

My spiritual disciplines happen in spaces that bring me alive:

Morning sun and Scripture — There's something sacred about those early moments when the sun warms my face and God's Word warms my soul. Before the day's demands press in, before client calls and emails flood my attention, I've learned to sit. To read. To listen. This isn't obligation; it's the best part of my day.

Dining tables as divine appointments — Whether I'm hosting or being hosted, I've discovered that some of the most powerful gospel conversations happen over good food and wine. Jesus knew this. He did His best work around tables. I'm simply following His example — though hopefully with better wine than they had in first-century Palestine.

The discipline of presence — In business meetings, at social gatherings, during casual conversations, I've trained myself to notice. To see beyond the surface. To recognize when someone's heart is hungry for hope. My favorite pastime isn't networking or deal-making — it's sharing the gospel, naturally, in the rhythms of real life.

What Real Discipline Looks Like

Here's what I've learned: spiritual fitness isn't about denying the finer things in life. It's about intentionally creating space for what matters most.

Those spiritually mature people I admire — the ones who radiate peace, hear God clearly, and share their faith naturally — didn't stumble into that depth. They cultivated it through:

1. Consistent Connection

I've built rhythms that work for my life:

• Morning time with God (coffee, sunshine, Scripture)

• Regular prayer before important decisions

• Sabbath rest that's actually restful — not just catching up on work

  
  

2. Knowledge Acquisition

I study Scripture not just to prepare content for Hopes Renewed, but to know God more deeply. The discipline of reading, reflecting, and applying God's Word has transformed how I see everything.

3. Intentional Practice

Sharing the gospel isn't something I do when I feel like it. I've made it a habit to:

• Ask questions that open hearts

• Listen for spiritual hunger in conversations

• Be ready always to give an answer for the hope within me

  
  

4. Making Space for Others

Through Hopes Renewed, I've committed to weekly encouragement, prayer, and pointing people to Jesus. This isn't just ministry — it's my spiritual discipline of giving away what God gives me.

The Beautiful Irony

While some people grind through spiritual disciplines that feel like punishment, I've discovered something wonderful: discipline creates the space for delight.

The morning sun is sweeter when I've shared it with God first. The wine tastes richer when I've thanked the One who created grapes. Business success means more when I see it as a platform for Kingdom impact. And conversations over dinner become sacred when I'm attentive to the Spirit's leading.

Those gym-fit people didn't just wake up in shape. They acquired knowledge about nutrition and exercise. They developed habits. They showed up consistently, even when they didn't feel like it.

My spiritual life requires the same intentionality — just with better scenery and more meaningful conversations.

The Question That Changes Everything

Here's what I ask myself regularly: Have I tasted enough of God's presence that I can't imagine starting my day without it?

When the answer is yes, discipline stops feeling like obligation. It becomes love.

I don't sit in the sun reading Scripture because I should. I do it because I've learned what happens when I don't — the day feels hollow, decisions feel harder, conversations feel shallower.

I don't share the gospel out of duty. I do it because I've experienced hope renewed, and I can't help but invite others into that same life-changing relationship.

Your Invitation

You might not be a wine-and-dine person. You might actually enjoy the gym (bless you). But wherever you find yourself most alive, most present, most connected to the beauty of life — that's where your spiritual disciplines can flourish.

The question isn't whether you'll enjoy the process. It's whether you'll show up consistently enough to acquire the knowledge and cultivate the habits that lead to spiritual depth.

Because here's the truth: those people in great spiritual shape didn't get there by accident.

They made time. They built rhythms. They chose connection over convenience.

And you can too — in your own way, in your own rhythms, with your own flavor of joy mixed in.

Just don't wait for the perfect moment. Start today. Sun optional, but highly recommended.

Grace and peace,

Brian