ARE WE DOING THIS RIGHT?

A Response to "Are We Doing This Right?"

The Weight of Influence

The question at the center of this text is not a casual one. It presses against the chest of anyone who has ever held another's spiritual well-being in their hands. And it asks something uncomfortable: Are we doing this right?

The text does not answer this question for us. It does not provide a checklist or a formula. Instead, it invites us into a deeper examination—not of our methods, but of our motion. The image of water finding its level is patient and unhurried. It does not force. It does not demand. It simply moves toward its source, pulled by a gravity it cannot resist.

This is the soul's true orientation when filled with the Spirit. Not striving upward through effort alone, but being drawn homeward through a pull that is both gentle and inevitable.

The Danger of the Dam

The warning is stark: We can become dams in the very river we were meant to guide. This is not hyperbole. It is the quiet tragedy of spiritual leadership—the slow, subtle shift from pointing to the water to managing the flow.

When we build walls of expectation:

We decide what spiritual growth should look like.

We measure progress by our own standards.

We grow impatient when the water does not move as we think it should.

When we build walls of preference:

We favor those who reflect our own temperament.

We dismiss those who approach God differently.

We confuse our comfort with the Spirit's presence.

When we build walls of personality:

We lead through force of presence rather than humility.

We expect others to conform to our way of being.

We mistake charisma for character.

These are not wicked intentions. They often arise from genuine love and concern. But intention does not excuse obstruction. The river does not ask permission to flow; it simply is. And when we stand in its path, we do not stop the water—we only redirect its force, often with unintended devastation.

The Memory That Keeps Us Human

There is a safeguard offered in the text, and it is memory. Not nostalgia, but remembrance.

"There was a time when we too stumbled in the dark."

This is not self-deprecation. It is orientation. When we remember our own confusion, our own clumsy faith, our own half-understood prayers, we are anchored to humility. We cannot look down on those still finding their footing when we recall how recently we were stumbling ourselves.

But the text does not stop at sentiment. It moves to responsibility:

"Maturity brings responsibility. We are called to unmask wolves in sheep's clothing, to expose the enemy's stratagems."

There is real danger. Real deception. Real wolves dressed in religious language. And silence in the face of that is not love—it is negligence.

This is where the tension intensifies. We are called to see clearly and act wisely. But the very clarity that enables us to protect others can become the thing that wounds them—if we are not careful.

Authority vs. Dominion

The distinction is crucial:

"This authority does not grant us dominion over others."

Authority is entrusted. Dominion is seized.

Authority serves. Dominion rules.

Authority liberates. Dominion controls.

Authority points to Christ. Dominion points to itself.

When we use truth as a weapon, we have already lost the war—even if we win the argument.

"People are not projects to be managed; they are souls to be cherished."

This is the heart of the matter. A project can be fixed, adjusted, optimized. A soul must be met. And meeting another soul requires something we cannot manufacture: genuine presence.

Control produces compliance. Love produces transformation. Only transformation lasts because only transformation touches the heart.

The Mirror We Dread

Then comes the question that cannot be escaped:

"Are we truly walking this out? Or are we, in the end, projecting our own temperament, our own agendas, dressed in spiritual language, while Christ's own likeness grows faint in the mirror?"

This is the mirror we dread because it reveals what we often hide from ourselves:

We can be right about the danger and wrong in the response.

We can defend the truth while betraying its spirit.

We can see clearly but not be seen clearly as Christ.

The question is not whether we see correctly. The question is whether others see Jesus in us—or simply see us with a Bible verse attached.

The River Belongs to the One Who Made It Flow

The closing image returns to the river:

"Clear the debris, shore up the banks, stand watch through the night, but never forget that the river belongs to the One who first made it flow."

This is the posture of faithful stewardship:

Clear the debris: Remove what obstructs.

Shore up the banks: Provide structure without stifling.

Stand watch: Be vigilant, alert to danger.

Never forget: You are not the source. You are not the owner. You are a servant of the flow.

The river belongs to God. It always has. It always will.

The Twist of Maturity

The text names the terrible irony:

"The more you see, the more you are tempted to seize control."

Growth in Christ bestows discernment. Discernment reveals danger. And danger awakens the instinct to manage. But the gift meant for protection becomes the weapon that wounds when we substitute our grip for the Spirit's gravity.

This is the quiet crisis of spiritual authority. It is not external opposition that undoes us—it is our own well-intentioned hands, reaching too far, holding too tightly.

One Truth to Carry

"The Spirit is more patient with people than you are, and His patience is not negligence—it is power."

This reframes everything.

Your urgency is not His urgency.

Your timeline is not His timeline.

Your anxiety about someone's growth is not a mandate for control.

His patience is power. It is not passivity. It is not indifference. It is the power to wait, to trust, to draw—without force.

Your role is not to manage the water. Your role is to clear the debris and trust the level it finds.

A Prayer for Those Who Lead

Lord, grant me the discernment to see danger without becoming dangerous myself. Teach me to protect without possessing, to correct without crushing. Let my maturity in Christ look less like control and more like the love that wins. When others encounter me, may they not feel the weight of my personality but the pull of Your Spirit, drawing them home.

Final Reflection

This text does not give us a new strategy. It gives us a mirror.

And in that mirror, we are asked: Are we doing this right?

The answer is not found in better methods or more precise theology. It is found in the current of our own souls—whether we are flowing toward God or obstructing the flow for others.

The river is moving. The water is finding its level. The question is whether we will stand in its path or stand beside it, clearing the way, trusting the One who made it flow.

Let the river run.