I’ve always been an ideas guy. As a kid, my friends and I would play a game where one person would think up an imaginary product and another would make up a jingle for it.
Throughout my life, I’ve accumulated a mental warehouse of possibilities: inventions, novelty improvements on existing things, a notebook with a novel trilogy outlined in it.
Business plans too—the taco food truck, the board game sharing library/delivery service, a homemade board game I’ve been sitting on for over 20 years.
My wife and I call it the “Beckenberger Think Trust”—a mashup of our old names, Beck and Leyenberger, from before we became Leyenbeck. It’s a joke, but it’s real. That’s where my ideas go to die. I dream them up, convince myself they’d work, then “throw them in the trust,” never to be thought of or heard from again.
I’m not quite sure whether it’s laziness or fear that stops me. What if I start out and fail? Was it a bad idea? Or did I just fail at achieving it? Maybe it’s better to just not try. That’s how it seems to go.
I almost skipped writing about Proverbs 12 for this blog. As I scanned through the verses, I couldn’t find the thread—the angle I wanted to take in my writing. I was searching for it. I’m developing a standard for my writing, and I thought to myself, If I’m not feeling it, maybe I should just skip it.
Then it hit me with unexpected clarity: not starting is the thread. My hesitation to write this reflection was the same hesitation that has kept me stuck in inaction for years.
In that moment of recognition, Proverbs 12 suddenly felt like it was written with me in mind. It was as though the verses were exposing my tendency to hide, to stay comfortable, to avoid taking the first step.
Proverbs 12:1—“Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates reproof is stupid.”
This verse is saying that loving discipline means embracing the discomfort of growth, yet my instinct is to retreat.
Not beginning feels safe, but it’s really avoidance. I’m like a turtle tucked into my shell, convinced I’m protecting myself. But God keeps tapping on my shell—inviting me to step out, to try, to grow. Yet, I ignore Him.
If I never try, I never fail. If I never fail, I never need correction.
But that’s exactly where I’ve missed the point.
Wisdom doesn’t grow in hiding. It grows in discipline—through the work itself, the mistakes, the refining process. When I refuse to take action, I’m not just avoiding failure; I’m avoiding the very knowledge God wants to teach me through the journey.
What might God be trying to teach me through the process of bringing one of my ideas to life?
Perhaps patience when things move slowly.
Maybe humility when my brilliant concept needs revision.
Or trust when circumstances don’t align with my timeline.
Proverbs 12:5—“The thoughts of the righteous are just; the counsels of the wicked are deceitful.”
I have wise friends, people of faith I trust, but I don’t often ask them for advice. Inviting someone into my problem suddenly brings in the possibility of accountability, pressure to actually have to follow through with my idea.
And what if they tell me my ideas aren’t good? What if they say I need to change something I don’t want to change? It’s easier to stay in my head, contenting myself with the thought that it’s a good idea. But Proverbs reminds me: wisdom isn’t self-made.
This hesitation to begin doesn’t just live in my creative projects—it permeates my faith journey in ways that matter more deeply.
Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in my approach to pro-life apologetics. I feel deeply convicted about the sanctity of unborn life and often think about how I might contribute to this cause.
In quiet moments, I imagine having thoughtful conversations where I could articulate the value of life from both biblical and scientific perspectives. But even these initial thoughts remain just that—thoughts.
I haven’t even taken the first step. The conviction stays private, the potential conversations never happen. I tell myself the topic is too divisive, that I need more knowledge, that others are better equipped.
Proverbs 12:15—“The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice.”
My reluctance to even seek counsel about how to begin this work keeps me in a cycle of inaction. By never consulting those already engaged in pro-life ministry, I miss the wisdom that could help me find my place in this important work—a place that aligns with both my convictions and my capabilities.
Proverbs 12:11—“Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread, but he who follows worthless pursuits lacks sense.”
Sitting on ideas is my worthless pursuit. Not chasing them doesn’t save me; it starves me.
Work—not wishful thinking—produces results.
The “Beckenberger Think Trust” might be clever wordplay, but it’s also a comfortable excuse.
I’ve spent years thinking myself into circles, talking myself into and out of things. But wisdom isn’t just about thinking—it’s about listening and then acting.
It’s a lesson I’m still learning, but one that proved true even as I worked through this very reflection.
In fact, writing this very entry was a step of discipline. I nearly skipped it, stuck in a loop with an earlier draft that I couldn’t make work.
But instead of giving up, I sought advice—from Phil, from my wife—and their insight helped me find a new way forward. If I had stayed in my own head, I wouldn’t have written this at all.
Final Thought:
Proverbs 12 isn’t saying I have to have it all figured out—but it does encourage beginning. Doing. Trusting God’s wisdom and leaning on His people.
It’s teaching me that keeping my ideas as just ideas, avoiding action, just holds me back. Whether it’s launching creative projects or speaking up for the unborn, faithful action honors God more than perfect intentions never pursued.
But changing that habit of inaction after years of being that way isn’t going to be as easy as merely recognizing it and saying I’ll change—I know it’s going to take effort and time.
Moving forward, I hope I would quit overthinking so much, trust God in the process, and actually take steps.
Growth happens when I act, not when I do nothing. I’ve got to step up, seek counsel, trust God, and embrace the journey, one step at a time.
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