While living in the Dominican Republic, during those hot summer days—and truthfully, every day felt hot coming from the States—there was this little shop I often visited. It wasn’t just any shop. It was the one with the slushy machine. I spent quite a bit on those icy treats, but not just because they were delicious. There was another reason I kept returning: the person tending the machine.
There was a girl who worked certain hours, and after a while, I figured out her schedule. I’d time my visits just right so I could buy my “Yun-Yun” (as they called it) when she was there. If someone else was working, I’d grab my slushy quickly and head out. But if it was her, I’d take my time, pretend to consider new flavors, and stumble through my broken Spanish, all while trying to look casual.
One day, things took an unexpected turn. She showed up at my family’s ice cream shop. My heart was pounding like Animal from the Muppets. Then she asked me something I didn’t see coming—she invited me to a party. She said there would be dancing. Of course, I also know she didn’t have to mention other things that were obvious to the occasion, like drinking and other activities.
At that moment, I was torn. I was a churchgoing teen, raised to avoid environments that could compromise my faith. Yet, I also didn’t want to lose her interest. I wanted to say something that would keep the door open without crossing the line. So I told her, “I’d love to go, but I’d feel embarrassed because I don’t know how to dance.”
That was true—but it wasn’t the real reason I said no. I was hoping she’d respond, “That’s okay, maybe we can go grab a bite somewhere.” Instead, she said she’d teach me, inviting me to her home to give me a few lessons. That’s when my heart sank. I realized I had put myself in a corner. I finally told her I was a Christian and that going to a party like that wouldn’t be the right thing for me. She simply said, “Oh,” and walked away.
That experience stuck with me—not because I didn’t get to dance with her, but because it revealed something deeper. At that time, God wasn’t at the center of my life; He was on a list. He was “first” on paper but not truly guiding my decisions. I made choices hoping to balance faith and desire rather than letting God define what balance even means. If God had been my center, I could have avoided all that time spent and, better yet, witnessed the Gospel to her.
That story became a mirror for me. And over the years, I’ve met many people—myself included—who approach faith the same way. We make lists to organize our lives:
At first glance, that seems right. After all, shouldn’t God be first? But here’s the problem—life doesn’t happen sequentially. It happens situationally. We don’t live our faith in neat, separated categories. Instead, our lives are like overlapping circles—faith, family, work, relationships, and dreams all interacting at once.
When God becomes a “priority” rather than the center, we risk compartmentalizing our relationship with Him. We check off the “God box” with morning devotions or Sunday services, then move on to the next task. We love Him at the start of the day—but forget to bring Him into the middle of it.
This is what I call Life by the List. It’s well-intentioned but dangerously incomplete. Because when we place God at the top of a list, we also create the illusion that we can move on to something else after Him.
When God is treated as an item to check off, the results can be spiritually devastating—even if we don’t notice it at first. Scripture warns us of this subtle drift.
In Revelation 3:15–16, (I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.) Jesus speaks to the church of Laodicea—people who thought they were rich, successful, and spiritually fine. But He tells them they’re lukewarm, neither hot nor cold. That’s what happens when God becomes part of our schedule instead of the source of our schedule.
We might start our mornings with a prayer, but by noon, we’re running entirely on our own steam. God becomes something we “do,” not Someone we abide in (John 15:4–5).
The list model subtly teaches us that we can manage God. “I gave Him my time this morning, so now I can focus on work.” It’s as if God only belongs in the moments we’ve reserved for Him. But Psalm 24:1 reminds us that the earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it—including our work, our rest, and our relationships.
When we isolate God to first place, we limit His access to every other place.
A list works well for projects, but not for people. Try putting your spouse, child, or best friend on a daily checklist—you’ll destroy the relationship. God doesn’t want to be ranked; He wants to be woven into every thought and decision.
Faith isn’t a duty to perform—it’s a relationship to nurture (Matthew 22:37–38 Jesus replied: “‘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.). When God is treated as one task among many, our love grows mechanical, and our prayers become transactional rather than transformational.
Now, contrast that with a life where God isn’t just first—He’s central. Imagine a wheel, with God as the hub and every part of your life as a spoke. When He’s at the center, everything stays connected and balanced. Remove Him, and the wheel collapses.
Living with God at the center means every decision, desire, and dream is tethered to Him. It’s what Jesus meant when He said, “Abide in me and you will bear much fruit” (John 15:5). The goal isn’t to give God a part of your time; it’s to let Him define every part of it.
When God is at the center, faith is integrated into every area—work, family, finances, rest, creativity, and relationships. Colossians 3:17 teaches, “Whatever you do, do it in the name of the Lord Jesus.”
That means God belongs in business meetings, family dinners, and even in the quiet moments when no one sees. It’s not about scheduling time for God—it’s about living from Him.
People who live by the list often serve God out of guilt or duty: “I should pray more,” “I should read the Bible.” But love transforms obligation into desire. When God becomes our center, obedience flows naturally.
Jesus said in John 14:15, “If you love me, you will obey what I command.” True obedience is fueled by affection, not anxiety. When love drives us, prayer becomes conversation, giving becomes gratitude, and obedience becomes joy.
God at the center means surrender—not 10% of your time or income, but 100% of your heart. Romans 12:1–2 calls us to offer our bodies as living sacrifices. That’s not partial devotion; it’s total surrender.
When God is at the center, we stop asking, “How much do I have to give?” and start asking, “How much more can I yield?”
Even after understanding this, many of us find ourselves bouncing between worlds—one foot in God’s will, the other in our own comfort. I’ve seen this pattern in my own life and in others.
We build safety nets—savings, careers, routines—so we never have to truly trust God. We say He’s “first,” but our actions say, “I’m in control.” When our plans crumble, we realize our security wasn’t in God but in what we built without Him. Proverbs 3:5–6 reminds us to trust in the Lord with all our heart and lean not on our own understanding.
It’s easy to give God a portion of our lives—a few hours at church, a bit of money, a little prayer—while keeping the rest for ourselves. But Jesus warned against this in Luke 9:62: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”
Lukewarm commitment produces lukewarm results. God doesn’t want “balanced” hearts—He wants surrendered ones.
Pride, worry, and anxiety often reveal where we’ve dethroned God. When stress rules us, it’s often because we believe our problems are bigger than His promises. Philippians 4:6–7 teaches that peace comes only through surrender.
Worry says, “It’s up to me.” Faith says, “It’s already in His hands.”
So how do we move from a God-first list to a God-centered life? Scripture gives us clear direction.
Everything begins with how we see Him. If our view of God is small, our faith will be small. But when we see Him as sovereign, holy, and worthy of all glory (Isaiah 6:1–3), our priorities reorder themselves naturally.
We stop trying to make Him first because He already is first. We simply align ourselves with that reality.
Prayer is the heartbeat of a centered life. Not as a ritual, but as a relationship. When Paul says to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17), he’s describing a life of continual awareness—God in every thought, every moment, every breath.
To live Coram Deo means to live every moment aware that you are in God’s presence, under His authority, and for His glory. It’s not a Sunday posture—it’s a daily awareness that God is near. When we live like this, even ordinary tasks become acts of worship (1 Corinthians 10:31 So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.).
Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and the second is like it: love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:37–40). When God is at the center, these commands unite—they’re not sequential but simultaneous. Loving others becomes a reflection of loving Him.
A centered life takes risks for God’s glory. It means loving enemies (Matthew 5:44), forgiving freely, and serving sacrificially. It means giving when it’s inconvenient and trusting when it’s uncomfortable. It means believing that obedience is always safer than comfort.
When we tell people, “Put God first,” we often mean well—but God never asked to be ranked. He asked to be everything.
He doesn’t want your Sunday without your Monday. He doesn’t want your worship without your work. He wants every breath, every decision, every ambition to flow from His presence.
When God is at the center:
That day at the Yun-Yun shop sometimes shows up in my mind, not because I missed a chance to be with a nice girl, but because it taught me how easy it is to live with God on a list.
When we live that way, we constantly wrestle between conviction and compromise, love and logic, calling and comfort. But when God becomes the center, everything else begins to find its rightful place around Him.
Maybe that’s what Jesus meant in Matthew 6:33 when He said, “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness.” Not first as in sequence—but first as in supreme. When God is your center, you don’t have to juggle priorities—He becomes the axis around which everything turns.
So the question isn’t whether God is at the top of your list. The real question is:
Is He the center of your life—or just one of your categories?
Because when God is truly at the center, everything else—not just your schedule, but your soul—finally begins to make sense.
Lord,
Thank You for reminding me that You were never meant to be just a part of my life but the very center of it.
Forgive me for the times I’ve placed You on a list instead of on the throne of my heart.
Teach me to seek You in every thought, every moment, every decision.
Draw me so close that everything I do flows from Your presence.
Be the center of my family, my work, my dreams, and my purpose.
Help me live each day Coram Deo—before Your face, for Your glory, and through Your strength.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.