I recently read a blog post called “Yo-Yoing” by Phyllis Kritek. I felt her quietly narrating my own life. She described the back-and-forth rhythm of trying to stay consistent, only to be pulled away by everything life keeps throwing in your direction. The tension between intention and reality…I feel it deeply.

Because if I’m honest, life has been lifing.

From grieving the loss of my great aunt around Thanksgiving to celebrating the birth of my newest great-nephew, my heart has been stretched in various directions; grieving and rejoicing, slowing down and showing up. And somewhere in between all of that, the things I want to do (like writing, reflecting, being consistent) feel harder to hold onto.

The blog put language to something I hadn’t fully admitted: sometimes it’s not a lack of discipline, it’s the weight of life transitions. There’s this subtle guilt that creeps in when you’re not producing or keeping up with your own expectations. But what if the pause isn’t failure? What if it’s simply evidence that you’re human, walking through real moments that matter?

Still, I’ve realized something in this season: while life may feel like a yo-yo…up and down, forward and back…my focus doesn’t have to be.

Scripture reminds us we should be continuously “fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith…” Hebrews 12:2 (NIV)

Not fix our eyes on our productivity.
Not fix our eyes on our consistency.
Not even fix our eyes on how well we’re “handling” life.

Fix them on Jesus.

Because He is steady when everything else isn’t.

I may not have written as much as I planned.
I may not have shown up in all the ways I intended.

But I’ve been present for the moments that mattered.
I’ve loved my family.
I’ve felt the weight of loss and the joy of new life.

And maybe, just maybe, that counts more than perfect consistency.

So, if you’re in a season where your rhythm feels off, where your goals keep getting interrupted, where life keeps “yo-yoing” you in unexpected directions… you’re not alone.

Give yourself grace.

And then gently, intentionally, lift your eyes again.

Because even when life is inconsistent—
He never is.