Brice Mitchell

I’m not super great at slowing down, but I’m working on it.

I was able to disconnect and spend a few days at the beach this past week. I enjoyed walks to get coffee with B, unhurried conversations (usually around the Lord or Michael Jackson), days of beautiful weather, the fresh breeze off the ocean, plenty of laughter, and perhaps way too much banana pudding ice cream.

Honestly, there was no big revelation this past week — no crazy earth-shattering moment of hearing the Lord’s voice. This trip was just a gentle reminder that my effort isn’t a prerequisite for rest; rest is all just His Grace.

I’m grateful for the invitation to slow down, for a God who SO loves me, and for some R&R for B&B.

There’s something holy about pouring yourself out for a vision that heaven breathed first.

I’ve learned so much these last few months about the need to say yes again and again — when it costs comfort, sleep, energy, convenience, and sometimes even the version of life that feels easiest to hold onto.

This season has demanded a lot… Late nights. Early mornings. Airplanes. Long drives. Fast food. Full calendars. Quick turnarounds. Carrying responsibility when you’re tired. Showing up when nobody sees the weight behind it.

But I think the biggest lesson I’m learning in this season is that stewardship in the Kingdom has always looked like surrender.

If you didn’t know, the burden God gives you will eventually ask something of you. Burdens are heavy for a reason. But ultimately, the weight isn’t meant to destroy you, but rather to form you.

To stretch your capacity.
To deepen your dependence.
To teach you how to labor with Him instead of just for Him.

There’s something radically beautifully about the fact that God would entrust ordinary people with His burdens and form us through the process to look a little more like Jesus.

So here’s to the hidden seasons.
The costly yeses.
The unseen labor.
The long obedience in the same direction.
The work done unto the glory of God when nobody is clapping yet.

Inspiration is easy.
Carrying a burden is the hard part.
But what a blessing it is to be entrusted with a burden that was the Lord’s first.

In all transparency, this past season has felt like a noisy one… Texts unanswered. Calls to take. Places to be. I have felt busy, hurried, and tired.

I’ve always been afraid of “busy” because of JMC (if you know, you know… and just to be clear, I’m not saying I disagree with him either, so don’t @ me), and when life gets hectic, I get overwhelmed with anxiety as I begin to demonize my schedule. And recently as I was reflecting, I felt like I got clocked by the Lord. I realized that maybe the goal isn’t to escape a “busy” life — maybe it’s to reframe my perspective and to find the beauty in intentionally building a full one.

Not full of noise, but full of people. Full of conversations that linger longer than planned. Full of coffee shops, living rooms, dinners, prayers, laughter, and spontaneous moments that become sacred.

I don’t want a life that is empty and efficient. I want one poured out in love… a life marked by presence, yet fully interruptible by people.

I’m learning that at the end of the day, fullness looks a lot like joy shared with God and with others, and perhaps one of the holiest things I can do is to stop calling it “too much” when God might be simply teaching me how to carry a full life well.

Acts 19:18-20 — Also many of those who were now believers came, confessing and divulging their practices. And a number of those who had practiced magic arts brought their books together and burned them in the sight of all. And they counted the value of them and found it came to fifty thousand pieces of silver. So the word of the Lord continued to increase and prevail mightily.

What made the gospel go out and prevail mightily?

Not better doctrine.
Not better discipline.
DEVOTION.

Revelation 2 is proof that all the good things you can do will never be good enough if you’ve abandoned the love you had at first.

This generation is running back to first love, and I believe that when a people become fully devoted to the Lord and refuse to settle for any mixture in the Gospel, the word of the Lord will continue to increase and prevail mightily.

Come, Lord Jesus.
We want you here.

There are seasons you can explain, and then there are seasons that leave you quiet.

Lately, I’ve found myself running out of words — not because there isn’t anything to say, but because what the Lord has done feels too weighty to reduce to language. It hasn’t been perfect. It hasn’t been easy. But it has been marked by His nearness in ways I didn’t know I needed.

I’ve seen His kindness in the small, hidden spaces.
His grace in the moments I felt least deserving.
His faithfulness not just in breakthrough, but in the slow, steady forming of becoming more like Jesus.

And all I can really say is this: I’m in awe.

Awe that He would draw near.
Awe that He would sustain.
Awe that He would choose to use someone like me at all.

If this season has taught me anything, it’s that He is better than I imagined, gentler than I expected, and more faithful than I could ever fully comprehend.

He is so, so kind.

“I sought trains; I found passengers.” - Paul Theroux

Thankful for the adventures the Lord has invited me into and for the beautiful family he’s introduced me to around the world.

I can’t wait to share these stories with my kids one day.

Enjoy these video postcards from Cape Town, Dubai, and Sydney.

These past few days in Dallas were like a recalibration of my soul.

After a season of running hard, slowing down and walking with my best friends created margin to sit and be reminded of what I’m doing and who I’m becoming.

The goal is not to get things from God, nor is it to building things for God. The goal is the steward the presence of God and to keep Him in my midst.

I don’t want my life to be marked by visitation.
I want my life to be marked by habitation.

Genesis 18:2-3
“He lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, three men were standing in front of him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent door to meet them and bowed himself to the earth and said, “O Lord, if I have found favor in your sight, do not pass by your servant.”

Son of Man, don’t pass me by.

As this past year comes to an end, and staring at the precipice of the next, I’m lost for words. How do you look back and even begin to explain all that God did? It’s as if I’m standing on a hill, gazing at the sun rising to the east, while looking backward and remembering all that I got to experience on the journey that led to this moment.

The adventure I got invited into.
The depths of the heart of the Father I got to discover.
The love I had the chance to receive.
The freedom I got to step into.
The people I got to meet.
The ministry I got to participate in.

I look back with tears welling in my eyes because by the grace of God the man I am today is not the man I was a year ago. I am more awake and alive than I have ever been in my 32 years of existence.

So how do you do it? How do you reflect and even attempt to grasp the goodness of God you had the opportunity to witness?

Well, I don’t think you do.

Instead, I think you give it the weight it deserves, you give glory to God and honor to those who changed you for the better, and then in the words of Paul, “one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

You reflect. You celebrate. You wipe the tears of joy from your eyes. But then you fix your eyes on Jesus, and with a newfound confidence and a fresh fire in your heart, you grip the straps of your book bag, take a step into the next adventure, and press on.

Here’s to pressing on in 2026.

As this past year came to an end, and staring at the precipice of the next, I’m lost for words. How do you look back and even begin to explain all that God did? It’s as if I’m standing on a hill, gazing at the sun rising to the east, while looking backward and remembering all that I got to experience on the journey that led to this moment.

The adventure I got invited into.
The depths of the heart of the Father I got to experience.
The love I had the chance to receive.
The freedom I got to step into.
The people I got to meet.
The ministry I got to participate in.

I look back with tears welling in my eyes because by the grace of God the man I am today is not the man I was a year ago. I am more awake and alive than I have ever been in my 32 years of existence.

So how do you do it? How do you reflect and even attempt to grasp the goodness of God you had the opportunity to witness?

Well, I don’t think you do.

Instead, I think you give it the weight it deserves, you give glory to God and honor to those who changed you for the better, and then in the words of Paul, “one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

You reflect. You celebrate. You wipe the tears of joy from your eyes. But then you fix your eyes on Jesus, and with a newfound confidence, you grip the straps of your backpack, take a step into the next adventure, and press on.

Here’s to pressing on in 2026.

“Why are you driving out to Indy again?”

Her.