Have you ever come back from a vacation, a long weekend, or a meaningful season and felt the jarring reality of re-entry?

One minute you're cruising down the highway — rested, inspired, full of perspective. And then out of nowhere — pothole. You weren't expecting it. You weren't prepared for it. And it is jarring.

That's what the Monday after Easter can feel like.

We plan for the big moments. The celebrations, the gatherings, the meaningful experiences. But we rarely plan for the day after. And yet Monday always comes — with the laundry, the inbox, the kids who suddenly remember a project due tomorrow that requires poster board. Nothing you have on hand.

Real life has a way of rushing back in fast.

And I think the disciples knew that feeling too. After the resurrection, they didn't stay on a mountaintop moment. They went back to fishing. Back to ordinary life. The days that followed Easter weren't dramatic or public — Jesus showed up on a beach, around a fire, over breakfast, on a walk to Emmaus. Quiet moments. Ordinary places.

That's how resurrection tends to work on this side of it too.

Maybe over these past few weeks something stirred in you. A realization. A shift. A sense that something needs to change or something new wants to begin. And now that you're back in the rhythm of regular life, that feeling seems far away — hard to hold onto when everything around you is loud and busy and demanding.

But here's what I want you to know: that stirring doesn't have to fade.

It's actually an invitation. God doesn't stir something in us just to let it disappear into a Monday morning. That nudge you felt — that thing you don't want to lose — is often the very place where he's asking you to take one small step forward.

You don't need a full plan. You don't need certainty. You just need one small step.

Maybe that looks like taking a walk once a week with the sole purpose of continuing that conversation with God. Maybe it's planning your day after — setting yourself up so that re-entry doesn't derail everything you came back with. I've started doing this after vacations — keeping my first morning back a little lighter, having a meal in the freezer, doing a quick grocery pickup. Small things that protect the space I came home with.

Or maybe your one small step is simply this: write it down. Name the thing that stirred. Name what you want to be different. Give it enough space that it doesn't just get swallowed up by the chaos of a regular Tuesday.

Because we get to choose. We can embrace the peace that Christ offers — or we can push it away and embrace the chaos. That's always our choice, even when real life feels like a pothole at 65 mph.

Three questions to think about this week:

If you want to talk through what's stirring, I'd love to hear from you. Reach me at [email protected]. Come back next week as we continue to heal and walk out this road together.