The Ghosting Was Coming from Inside the House

I had to laugh at myself this week, because I realized something that was both funny and slightly offensive. Sometimes the ghosting is not coming from other people. Sometimes the ghosting is coming from inside the house. Mine, specifically.

You know how people talk about getting love-bombed? Somebody comes in hot. Big energy. Big promises. Lots of attention. They make you feel like this is it. This is the connection. This is the thing. And then one day, poof. Gone. Casper with commitment issues.

Well, I hate to report that sometimes I do that to my own life. Not with people. With plans.

I get excited about a new routine, a new book, a new budget, a new workout plan, a new prayer habit, a new meal prep system, a new hobby, a home project, or some grand “new me” declaration that sounds amazing on a Tuesday afternoon. And when I say excited, I mean excited. I buy the supplies. I gather the snacks. I line up the water bottle. I get the shoes. I pick the notebook. I choose the pen like the right pen is somehow the key to lifelong consistency. I tell people about it. I picture the whole glow-up. Sometimes I have not even done the thing yet, but in my mind I am already receiving the testimony and wearing cute linen while doing it.

Then the actual follow-through shows up, and suddenly I am unavailable.

Now the yoga mat is in the corner collecting dust. The book has a bookmark sitting on page 27 like we had a disagreement. The budgeting envelope is looking at me with disappointment. The plant is fighting for its life. The walking shoes are still cute, but they have not seen much walking. And if my cat could talk, I am pretty sure he would look at all of it, blink slowly, and say, “Oh, so we done with this now too?”

That is the part that made me laugh, because it is so easy to complain about people who come in strong and disappear. But what about the ways we do that to our own goals? We fall in love with the beginning. The beginning is fun. The beginning is pretty. The beginning has potential. The beginning lets us imagine a whole new version of ourselves before we have had to prove anything. We love the fresh notebook, the new calendar, the clean kitchen, the first walk, the first prayer plan, the first grocery haul, the first chapter, the first week of “this time for real.” Beginnings are seductive like that. They ask for hope.

But staying asks for something else. Staying requires patience when the excitement wears off. Staying asks for follow-through when nobody is clapping. Staying asks for effort after the cute announcement phase is over. Staying asks us to keep showing up when the thing is no longer shiny, just necessary. That is where a lot of us quietly disappear.

And listen, I am not saying we have to become robots who finish every single thing we start. Some things really do need to be let go. Some ideas are not for this season. Some routines sound better in theory than they feel in real life. Not every unfinished thing is a moral failure. But some of us are not quitting because the thing is wrong. We are quitting because the thrill is gone.

Dang. That hit me square in my chest!

Because excitement will get us started, but excitement is not always strong enough to carry us when consistency gets boring. And a lot of life gets built in boring places. Not glamorous places. Not announcement places. Not “new me” places. Boring little faithful places where you just keep showing up.

I think that is why so much growth feels slower than we want it to. We keep wanting the next fresh start to save us from the last unfinished one, when really the lesson may be hiding in the thing we already set down. Maybe the next breakthrough is not in a brand-new plan. Maybe it is in returning to one good thing we ghosted too soon.

That does not sound nearly as exciting, but it does sound honest.

So this week, instead of rushing into some brand-new declaration with all the energy of a motivational speaker and none of the follow-through, I am trying something simpler. I am checking on the things I already started. Not all of them, because let’s not be dramatic. Just one. One thing I started with “this is the one” energy and then quietly abandoned when it asked for consistency.

Maybe that is the invitation for you, too. Before you start something new this week, check on one thing you already started and ghosted. A habit. A goal. A routine. A prayer practice. A budget. A book. A project. Something that still matters, even if the excitement has left the building. Because excitement is easy. Staying is where the growth happens.

So let me ask you this over coffee: what is something you started with big “this is the one” energy, then ghosted when it needed consistency?

Until next Sunday...

From my coffee cup to yours… enjoy the rest of your coffee, carry a little grace into the week, and I'll meet you back here next Sunday.

– Renee 🤍
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