Faith Over Chaos

Today I’m writing from a place of explanation—and maybe a little holy rebellion.

I came up with this Eden Thinking concept as a way for my brain to accept the notion that we can talk to God like Adam and Eve did. Not just formally. Not just when we’re “supposed to.” But personally. Intimately. Like it was in the beginning. Let’s be real—God and I aren’t strolling the canals in Phoenix, AZ. But I can sit in private, in secret, just as Jesus taught us:

“But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” — Matthew 6:6 (NIV)

That’s Eden Thinking. It’s not about geography—it’s about proximity. It’s about choosing closeness with God over chaos in the world. It’s remembering that through Jesus, and by the Holy Spirit, we’ve been invited back into the garden. Back into fellowship. Back into the quiet where God still walks and speaks.

The world spins fast and loud, we seem to walk in chaos more than we do in fellowship with God. Our calendars are full, our minds are noisy, and our hearts—if we’re honest—feel more scattered than sacred. Some chaos is our own doing. We bring it in like Martha, busying ourselves with tasks and expectations, trying to serve, trying to fix, trying to earn peace through productivity. (See my last post for a tidbit of that.) But some chaos isn’t invited—it crashes in unannounced. It’s the diagnosis, the betrayal, the loss. The kind that hits just when you thought you had it all together. And in both kinds of chaos, Eden Thinking becomes a lifeline. It’s not denial. It’s not pretending the mess isn’t real. It’s choosing to sit at Jesus’ feet anyway. To walk with Him in the garden the pray without ceasing mentality, even when the world feels like a wilderness.

Pray without ceasing.— 1 Thessalonians 5:17 (KJV)

So how to practice this within the chaos? You take the time. You intentionally act on it. It’s a moment-by-moment invitation. It’s the choice to turn toward God in the middle of laundry, traffic, grief, or joy. Here is some practical ways you can bring this to life in your own chaos:

• Start with a whisper while cooking, while folding laundry: “Jesus, I’m here.” “Holy Spirit, help me see…” These tiny invitations shift my focus from chaos to closeness to intimacy.

• Create holy pauses: I set gentle reminders—sometimes a sticky note (I am definitely a sticky note kind of girl), sometimes a phone alarm—that say things like “Walk with Him” or “Garden time.” They’re not tasks. They’re invitations. Little nudges to step out of the noise and back into the quiet. Not because I’m super spiritual, but because I’m super forgetful. And sometimes, Eden Thinking needs a neon pink Post-it to get my attention.

• Journal the interruptions: When chaos hits, jot down what you’re feeling and ask, “Where is God in this?” It’s not about fixing the moment—it’s about finding fellowship in it.

• Use scripture as a doorway: I keep one verse close each day. Not to study, but to walk with. Today it might be Matthew 6:6. Tomorrow it might be “Be still and know…” (Psalm 46:10). I let it echo through my hours—whispering truth into the noise. And yep, you guessed it… it’s on a sticky note. Because Eden Thinking sometimes needs a little help sticking around.

• Practice presence over performance: Eden Thinking isn’t about doing more—it’s about being with God more. I remind myself that He’s not grading me. He’s walking with me.

Helping you find peace in the garden again- in the middle of your mess, not after it.

Before you scroll away to reheat your coffee for the third time (no judgment—I’m on cup two myself), let’s pause. Not to perform. Not to impress. Just to reflect.

1. What’s one sticky-note-sized truth I need to remember today?
2. Am I more like Mary or Martha this week—and what’s one small shift I can make toward fellowship over frenzy?
3. What chaos am I carrying that wasn’t mine to fix—and have I actually talked to God about it, or just worried at Him?
4. What lie am I believing about my worth or my walk—and what truth does God want to whisper instead?
5. If I had a spiritual sticky note for this season, what would it say?