These are all statements you hear and no doubt have said a thousand times. But in them is seed of failure. In saying these few words you are destined not to succeed. The seed to failure is in word ‘trying’.

Just stop a moment and look at your life. Ask yourself question. What does trying really mean?

Does it mean: I am making effort to succeed. I am having a go but I don’t think I will succeed I don’t want to do this but if I look as though I am it will keep everyone happy. I must look as though I am making effort here. It won’t really work but if that’s what they want I will go along with it. I cannot see us completing this in a month of Sundays but at least it looks as though we have given it a go. I hate idea of jogging or gym but to keep her/him happy I will have a go. Deep down I like way I am and food I eat but it keeps people off my back. I actually like smoking. It helps with stress but after all publicity I think I ought to give it up.

If trying means any of above are you surprised you fail?

Have a go at this exercise.

Try not to think of a giraffe?

Did you succeed. I bet you can’t get photo of a giraffe out of your mind.

Try to make a cup of coffee. You can’t can you. You either make a cup of coffee or you don’t.

Abide in me. The three words with which Jesus invited his disciples to place their faith in His love as they walked to Garden of Gethsemane that last fateful night. He wasn’t just talking to disciples though. No, He was talking to us, too. And these three simple words, if understood and acted upon, can make all difference in a Christian’s life. The problem is that many of us have never really even noticed they were spoken—much less taken their message to heart.

What does “abide” mean anyway? According to Webster’s Dictionary, “abide” means to remain. That makes sense, remain with Me, stay with Me, stay by My side. Ah, but Jesus doesn’t say “with,” He says “in.” Simply put Jesus is not saying He wants us to walk with him, or be with Him. He is saying He wants us to remain in Him—as close as we could ever get to actually to Him without being Him.

This is just semantics, you say. A play on words. What possible significance could such a tiny distinction make? I can tell you that in my life, it has made all difference.

I must confess first that until recently I didn’t put words to this phenomenon. I knew it was in my life, but explaining it wasn’t easy to do. At time I called it “faith.” As a writer, I put great faith in belief that God would light my path, that if I surrendered project to His care, I would have right words at right time.

The opportunities to use this faith were boundless. For example, when my two year old deleted five pages of new manuscript I was working on, I distinctly remember saying, “Well, I guess God didn’t want it said that way.” Or when my publicist threw a major curve into my plans by saying cover for my second book (which I had chosen) would never work, and we had no choice but to change it. True it took me awhile of being furious with her before I realized that it was God, not she, that had a better idea. Once I surrendered to that understanding, new cover came into focus, and it was far and away better than original.

For several years these were types of ways I tried to “abide in Him” although “faith” was probably better term because I was still relying on some outside entity—not a spirit that permeated me.