What Is Your Spiritual Indicator?

May 21

3 min read

I’ve realized something recently: your spiritual condition isn’t always reflected in your spiritual language.

If you’ve been around the church long enough, you know the vocabulary. You know how to sound spiritually attuned, even when your heart isn’t. Personally, my language doesn’t shift much whether I’m walking closely with Jesus or drifting. The same goes for my public behavior—it’s not always a reliable indicator of what’s happening in my soul.

Here’s the interesting part.

Even when my heart is distant from God, I still relate kindly to others. I speak with compassion. I listen. I show care. But often, it’s not flowing from a vibrant center—it’s habit. I’ve trained myself over five decades to relate well. These are relational muscles I’ve developed. And yet, at times, they’re just that: muscle memory. My kindness isn’t always rooted in love; it’s a pattern of behavior.

And no one would know.

Outwardly, things look fine. But internally? There are seasons when my soul is empty. If that continues long enough, the cracks begin to show. Bitterness creeps in. Criticism becomes a reflex. What once was a healthy outward pattern turns into a shell—a false self that hides the dryness inside.

I see this more and more in others, too.

People whose lives appear whole, but whose souls are worn thin. They’ve learned to be kind, to serve, to give. But it’s disconnected from the deep well of God’s love. That disconnection always comes at a cost. For some, it doesn’t hit until midlife or beyond. The outward form continues, but the inner life is brittle. And eventually, the reservoir dries up.

So, how do we avoid building a false self?

We start with awareness.

I’ve noticed three spiritual indicators in my life—subtle signs that tell me whether I’m living from intimacy with Christ or from old habits.

1. My Journaling

When my journal starts reading like a travel log rather than personal reflection, I know something’s off. If I’m just recording events instead of wrestling with God, asking questions, or confessing, it’s a signal that my heart has drifted.

2. My Thought Life

You know the thoughts no one else sees? When mine revolve around getting through the day, checking off tasks, or self-gratification, I know I’m not centered in Christ. My mind becomes filled with earthly concerns rather than spiritual ones.

3. My Reactions Under Pressure

How I respond to criticism or challenge tells the truth. If I react out of insecurity or defensiveness, rather than grounded identity in Christ, I know my spiritual roots are shallow in that moment.

Here’s what I’ve come to believe:

Relating well to others must flow from being rooted in the Father’s love. When I’m centered in His love, I flourish. When I’m not, even my best behaviors can become hollow. True transformation doesn’t come from fixing our behaviors—it comes from re-centering our souls.

That’s why this prayer in Ephesians 3:12–21 speaks so powerfully to me:

In Christ and through faith in Christ we may approach God with freedom and confidence. I ask you, therefore, not to be discouraged because of my sufferings for you, which are your glory.

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine,

according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

I’ve needed that truth in recent months more than I care to admit.