Every day we make thousands of decisions. Most are small, automatic, handled effortlessly by habit and past experience. Part of becoming an adult is building that internal library of practiced responses: thousands of situations where we already know exactly what to do.

Every day we make thousands of decisions. Most are small, automatic, handled effortlessly by habit and past experience. Part of becoming an adult is building that internal library of practiced responses: thousands of situations where we already know exactly what to do.
But sometimes a new, unfamiliar, or emotionally heavy circumstance arises, one that has no well-worn path in our minds. There is no pre-recorded answer. In those moments, we draw on deeper resources: our accumulated experience, our knowledge, and often, we turn to God and ask Him to shed light on the way forward.
One of the most reliable ways to navigate these moments is value-based decision making. We establish a personal “constitution” or value system ahead of time, a set of guiding principles that act as a compass when clarity is hard to find. This constitution might include:
•Our core values—what matters most to us
•Lessons from experience—what has proven wise or unwise in the past
•The Bible—God’s living Word that speaks into every kind of circumstance
•The gentle leading of the Holy Spirit, who often brings peace or unease to guide us
When values align and the path feels clear, the decision is relatively straightforward. But what happens when two good, ethical priorities collide? When both options seem right, yet we feel tension?
The ultimate guide remains the teaching of Scripture and the peace (or absence of peace) that the Holy Spirit gives us. If there is no peace about a choice, even a seemingly good one, it is usually wise to pause and not move forward.
Last year I had the opportunity to attend an investment conference in New York that would allow me to meet one of my admired heroes, General Petraeus. I called Jane to see if she wanted to join me. We let the idea sit for a few days. I stayed excited and even asked my contact to help move me from the waitlist to confirmed attendance.
Yet a growing heaviness settled over us. Jessica was fighting cancer in her thigh at the time. Though we believed she was on the path to recovery, the thought of leaving her, even for a few days, didn’t sit right. Our spirits felt weighed down. We decided not to go. Instead, I planned to use the time to stay home, spend extra hours with Jessica, and give Jane a much-needed break from caregiving.
In hindsight, that turned out to be Jessica’s second-to-last week on this side of heaven. Had we gone, we would never have forgiven ourselves. That decision, was actually quite clear-cut once we listened to the unease in our hearts.
We decided to stay because our family is more important than any hero’s or celebrity I could have met. Our kids are on the very top of our priority list.
So here is the question:
Do you have a clear set of priorities and values written on your heart? When two good things collide, do you have those guiding principles front and centre, so you can see which path carries the greater weight of peace, love, and faithfulness? Have you already decided, in advance, who or what is most important when the moment of tension arrives?