At sunset, I walked outside to grab a package. The porch was awash with golden light, and as I stepped back inside, my attention fell upon the illuminated remains of a Boxelder bug. It had been crushed by a closing door some time ago and was now stuck to the inside of the door frame, its bright red belly facing up, as if it were sunning itself. Naturally, I felt the urge to photograph it (this was not my first time having a photoshoot with crushed insect models), as I loved the little shadows cast by its limbs and antennae. Like a spotlight during a play, golden hour is great at narrowing my focus, directing my attention toward subjects—big and small—that I tend to overlook. I grabbed my camera and macro lens, crouched down, and began shooting. In spite of my son smacking my back and tugging at my camera strap, I managed to take a few sharp photos.

I put my camera away and went about my evening. It wasn’t until the following morning, after a night of little sleep, that the image of that beetle crawled back into my mind. Many of the scenes I capture resonate with me beyond their superficial appearance. Over the years, I’ve only felt compelled to write about a few of them, especially now that I have less time to sit in front of a computer with a little one around. This one felt necessary, though. The analogy (although imperfect) that entered my mind was relevant to how I have been feeling lately. Even if I decided not to share it with others, the relief that comes from writing down ideas I’ve been struggling with gave me enough motivation to start.

I lay in bed, the image of that beetle projected in my mind. What did we have in common? The bug was stuck on the threshold between two distinct realities, in a sort of purgatory. I feel that way when I’m paralyzed by indecision, repeatedly weighing the pros and cons of two options. More critically, I have felt that way since stepping back into my faith, struggling to take additional, greater steps past that doorway between the secular and spiritual realms. Amid the busyness of day-to-day existence, it’s too easy to stagnate in that comfortable but deadly space.

Months ago, I started reading Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster. It’s a wonderful and rich book about nurturing your spiritual life and fostering your relationship with God. However, I have lacked the discipline to finish it. In this world of instant gratification, it’s easy to want and expect results without effort. It’s like trying to get six-pack abs without exercising. My prayer life may be good, but do I devote enough time to meditation, reading scripture, helping others, etc.? I have no problem finding time to scroll through social media or bake cookies, yet I postpone what’s most important. I see God working in my life, but I’m afraid I’m too busy and too lazy to hear and understand Him clearly. So, I find myself idly standing just inside the door that God opened for me, wasting away time that could be spent more deeply in His presence.

I don’t want to end up like the beetle. I need to move quickly beyond those first steps because I don’t know when the door will close. Let us all move beyond the start, beyond what is holding us back, beyond our excuses, beyond our vices, and become who God intends for us to be.