Sauna Thoughts: Faith, Purpose, and the Long Process of Becoming

This morning I finished a workout, sat in the sauna, and had one of those moments where the mind slows down just enough for the deeper questions to rise up.

The gym has become a strange place of reflection for me lately.

I’ve been working hard. Really hard. Zercher squats, lifting, sweating, pushing. And yet sometimes it feels like I’m not even getting stronger. I’ve been stuck at 135 pounds on Zercher squats for weeks. It’s brutal. It hasn’t gotten easier.

But I keep doing it.

And maybe that’s part of the point.

Because life right now feels a little like that too.

Effort. Faith. Work. Discipline.

And yet… not always seeing the progress I expect.

The Question That Keeps Coming Back

Lately I keep asking the same question over and over again.

What is my purpose?

I ask it in prayer.

I ask it while driving.

I ask it during workouts.

I ask it while building things and trying to move my projects forward.

Am I spinning my wheels?

I’m working hard on things I believe in. I’m mentoring kids, building programs, coaching, thinking about education, building community. But financially? It’s not like I’m making much money at all right now.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing something wrong.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing something.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m supposed to be somewhere else entirely.

But then I hear something simple that shifts my perspective.

Not “figure out your purpose.”

Not “ask God for the perfect job.”

Instead, Jesus said:

“Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you.” — Gospel of Matthew 6:33

Not chase.

Not strive endlessly.

Just seek first.

Love God.

Love your neighbor.

And walk.

The Core of Everything

Jesus was once asked what the greatest commandment was.

He didn’t give a complicated answer.

He said:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” — Gospel of Matthew 22:37–39

That’s it.

Everything else grows out of that.

The Seed Thought

While sitting in the sauna this morning, a thought came to me.

Maybe faith is like a seed.

Maybe we are the seed.

And God — the Trinity — is everything around us that allows growth.

The soil.

The water.

The sunlight.

We are planted in the soil.

The soil holds us.

Water nourishes us.

Sunlight strengthens us.

Without those things, the seed can’t become anything.

But the seed also has a role.

It has to open.

It has to allow the water in.

It has to reach for the light.

It has to send roots down before it ever grows upward.

And here’s the part we often forget:

• Seeds start in darkness.

• They start buried.

• Hidden.

• Quiet.

Before there is growth above ground, there is a long season underground.

• Roots.

• Formation.

• Strength.

• No applause.

• No visible results.

• Just growth happening where nobody can see.

Jesus Actually Used This Exact Image

Jesus constantly spoke in agricultural metaphors.

He once said:

“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field.

Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it becomes the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree.” — Gospel of Matthew 13:31–32

Small beginnings.

Long growth.

Eventually something large enough to shelter others.

Staying Connected

Jesus also said something else that fits this image perfectly:

“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever remains (abides) in me and I in them will bear much fruit.” — Gospel of John 15:5

Branches don’t produce fruit by trying harder.

They produce fruit by staying connected.

The Sequoia Thought

Another thought came to me in the sauna.

Humanity might be like sequoia trees.

Sequoias are incredible.

Some of the largest living organisms on earth.

But what’s fascinating about them is their root systems.

They don’t grow extremely deep roots like some trees.

Instead, their roots spread outward and interconnect with other sequoias.

• They support each other underground.

• Their roots intertwine.

• They strengthen each other.

• They stabilize the entire forest.

And maybe that’s a picture of humanity too.

We aren’t meant to grow alone.

We’re meant to be connected.

That might explain something deep inside us.

• Why we seek community.

• Why we crave fellowship.

• Why church matters.

• Why spending time with like-minded believers strengthens us.

We are roots intertwined in the same soil.

Some connections feel natural.

Some people we meet feel instantly familiar.

Others drain us — what some people call emotional vampires.

• But when we find the right community…

• The right people…

• The right church…

Something deep inside us says:

Yes. This is where I belong.

Because roots recognize roots.

Maybe We’re All Just Saplings

Another thought crossed my mind.

If we are eternal beings — eternal souls — then maybe our life here on earth is just the very beginning.

• Maybe we’re infants spiritually.

• Maybe we’re not even full trees yet.

• Maybe we’re just saplings.

• Trying to grow roots.

• Trying to stay in good soil.

• Trying to absorb the water and sunlight.

• Trying to learn how to produce good fruit someday.

That changes how you look at things.

Because trees take years to grow.

Sometimes decades.

But the growth underground is what allows the fruit later.

The Hard Part of Faith

The hardest part of faith isn’t believing.

Believing is the seed.

The hard part is walking.

Walking when things are unclear.

Walking when the path isn’t obvious.

Walking when the financial side doesn’t make sense.

Walking when the world tells you success should look different.

Walking when you’re unsure if you’re making progress at all.

It’s easy to believe in God.

It’s harder to trust the process.

Maybe My Purpose Right Now Is Simple

This is something I’m slowly realizing.

Maybe my purpose right now isn’t some huge public thing.

Maybe it’s smaller.

Maybe it’s quieter.

Maybe it’s more important than I realize.

Maybe my purpose right now is to raise my children.

To make sure they grow up strong.

• Healthy.

• Secure.

• Confident.

• Kind.

To teach them how to walk in goodness.

To teach them how to love people.

To show them what a life of faith actually looks like.

Not just talking about it.

Living it.

Maybe my role right now is to clear the path for them so their journey is a little easier than mine.

And if that’s true…

Then maybe I’m not behind at all.

Maybe I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Preparation Seasons

Another thought crossed my mind this morning.

What if this season isn’t the challenge?

What if it’s the preparation?

Right now I’m working on my health.

Getting stronger physically.

Getting stronger spiritually.

Spending time with my kids.

Thinking deeply about life.

Learning.

Growing.

What if God is giving me this season before the bigger challenge comes?

Before the responsibility grows.

Before the mission expands.

Because if that’s true…

Then this quiet season is actually a gift.

Faith Is Not a Map

I think sometimes we want God to hand us a map.

• Step one.

• Step two.

• Step three.

Clear directions.

But faith doesn’t work that way.

Faith is more like planting the seed and trusting that growth will come.

• You water.

• You care for the soil.

• You stay in the sunlight.

• And you trust the process.

Even when you can’t see what’s happening underground.

A Tree by the Water

There’s a verse that describes this perfectly:

“Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord…They will be like a tree planted by water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.” — Book of Jeremiah 17:7–8

Roots deep.

Water nearby.

Fruit eventually.

Final Thought

This morning reminded me of something important.

A seed doesn’t know the future tree.

It doesn’t know how tall it will grow.

It doesn’t know how many branches it will have.

It doesn’t know how many people will one day sit in its shade.

It just does one thing.

It grows where it’s planted.

And maybe that’s the only step I need to worry about right now.

Growing where I’m planted.