Feed your spirit, not your flesh

I’ve noticed something about the world we live in: The world is always asking for more. More success, more beauty, more attention, more stuff. Everywhere we turn, there is a new standard telling us who we should be and what we should chase. 

For a while, I believed that if I could just keep up, if I worked hard enough or reached the goals I set for myself, then maybe I would finally feel whole. Maybe I would feel like I mattered. But the truth is, every time I hit one of those milestones, the satisfaction never lasted. It felt good for a moment, but then it faded. And the cycle would start all over again. The more I tried to fill myself with what the world offered, the emptier and more anxious I began to feel.

Scripture describes this as “The flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh.” (Galatians 5:17) There’s the part of me that wants the comfort, attention, pleasure and approval from others. And then there’s the part of me that longs for peace, for purpose, for God in my life, who will fill this void. The world says, “Live for yourself,” but the Spirit says, “Live for something greater.”

When I follow the voice of the flesh, I end up restless. No achievement or possession can silence that ache inside that longs for something more. But when I listen to the Spirit, when I take time out of my day to pray, when I focus on loving people instead of impressing them, when I remind myself that my worth comes from God and not from this world, I find a joy and peace that I can’t explain. It’s not loud or flashy; it’s steady and enough. 

Living for God doesn’t mean we throw away everything in the world or act like nothing here matters. It simply means putting things in the right order. Money, recognition, beauty and success are not bad in themselves. The problem is when they become the center of our lives, when we let them define who we are. That’s when we get lost in the flesh. Living for God means remembering that everything on earth is temporary, but God is eternal and everlasting. The flesh says, “Put yourself first,” but the Spirit says, “Love God and love others.” And when I choose the Spirit, even ordinary things like school, work or friendships start to take on a deeper meaning because I’m no longer chasing them to prove my worth.

The world makes it sound like living for yourself will make you happy. But if that’s true, why are so many people who “have it all” still looking for something more? Fame disappears, wealth can vanish overnight, beauty fades, but when your life is anchored in God, you’re not shaken as easily. Even when hard times come, you have peace because your foundation is not built on things that can crumble.

That doesn’t mean this path is easy, if anything, it’s harder. The pull of the world is strong, and I catch myself scrolling on my phone and comparing my life to people who seem to have everything I don’t. I catch myself wanting recognition more than I want to serve. I catch myself craving comfort instead of discipline. That’s when I know I need to step back and feed my spirit.

Feeding the spirit takes intention. For me, that means prayer. Not fancy or perfect words, but just honest conversations with God. It means reading Scripture and letting it remind me of what’s true when the world is loud. It means surrounding myself with people who encourage me to grow instead of dragging me down. Sometimes it means giving up certain comforts so I can remember that I don’t need them to survive. And sometimes it means choosing small acts of service, even when no one notices, because those moments shift my heart away from selfishness.

It’s not always glamorous. But every time I take steps like that, my soul feels lighter. My perspective changes. Instead of being trapped in comparison, I feel gratitude. Instead of being obsessed with what people think, I feel secure in God’s love. Instead of being restless, I feel peace.

I’ve realized that at the end of the day, I have to decide what I’m living for. The world and the flesh promise everything but deliver nothing lasting. God and the Spirit may require sacrifice, but they lead to a life that’s full. Not full of things, but full of meaning.

So here’s the question I keep coming back to, and maybe it’s the one we all need to ask ourselves: Am I living for what fades, or am I living for what lasts forever?