We live in a world that is constantly trying to shape us. Pressures come from every direction, culture, circumstances, relationships, uncertainty—all of it working to pull us away from who we are meant to be. The question is not whether we will face these pressures. The question is, will we simply reflect them, or will we actively resist them?

Think about a thermometer and a thermostat. A thermometer is passive. It reads the temperature around it and displays what already exists. A thermostat, on the other hand, is active. It measures the environment, yes, but then it works to change it. It sets a standard and refuses to settle for anything less. In life, we’re constantly choosing between these two modes.

Most of us drift between them without even realizing it. Some days we’re thermometers, passively absorbing whatever our surroundings throw at us. We react to stress, negativity, doubt. We let circumstances dictate our mood, our choices, our direction. But other days—the better days—we become thermostats. We make deliberate choices that shape not just ourselves but the people and spaces around us.

The ancient proverb warns us about this drifting: “All we like sheep have gone astray.” There’s something in our nature that pulls us off course. We’re not naturally inclined to stay true. And there’s a spiritual principle here that’s worth understanding. There’s a phrase about sin that captures this perfectly: it will take you further than you want to go, make you pay more than you want to pay, and make you stay longer than you want to stay. Environment shapes behavior. What we take in influences what we give out. And if we’re not vigilant, we end up somewhere we never intended to be.

For those of us who follow Christ, there’s a framework for understanding this. Romans reminds us that we’ve all sinned and fallen short. But it also tells us about God’s gift of eternal life through Jesus. The key is recognizing that staying true isn’t something we do alone. It’s something we do in constant connection with our faith, our community, our spiritual practices.

Think of a carpenter’s plumb line. It’s a simple tool, a weight on a string—but it ensures that what’s being built is perfectly vertical, perfectly true. If you’re off by just a fraction at the beginning, by the time you’ve built several stories, you’re completely crooked. The same principle applies to our lives. Small deviations compound. A slight tilt to the right or left, ignored long enough, and you’re no longer heading toward your destination.

NASA understands this principle too. When a rocket launches toward the moon, if its trajectory is even slightly off in those first moments, it will miss the mark entirely. Space is vast and unforgiving. Precision matters from the very beginning.

During the pandemic, I experienced this firsthand. Anxiety and overwhelming uncertainty crept into my mind each day. The future felt unknowable. Fear wanted to be my constant companion. But I discovered something that became my anchor: Scripture. Promises from God’s Word. When I quoted those promises—when I reminded myself of my identity in Christ, of the certainty I have as a believer, I could take my eyes off the uncertain and fix them on something immovable. That practice of recalibration, of constantly returning to truth, saved me.

And here’s the thing: it wasn’t just a daily practice. Some days it was hourly. Some moments it was minute by minute. Staying true requires vigilance. It’s like flying an airplane. You can’t fall asleep at the controls. You can’t look away from your instruments. You have to be constantly aware of where you are, who you’re with, and whether you’re still on course.

Which brings me to the maps application on your phone. You punch in a destination, and the app guides you turn by turn. But the moment you deviate, the moment you turn left when it says turn right, the app doesn’t give up on you. It simply recalculates. “Recalibrating, recalibrating, recalibrating.” It keeps adjusting until you’re back on course. Sometimes the recalibrated route takes longer. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever arrive. But the alternative to following those recalibrations is getting completely lost.

That’s the spiritual reality too. Daily recalibration keeps us on point toward our destination. And what is our destination? To finish the race well. To serve the Lord with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength. To refuse to become a casualty to a culture that wants to destroy us spiritually. To keep our eyes fixed on heaven.

The films “The Forge,” “Soul on Fire,” and “Woodlawn” each illustrate this truth in different ways. “The Forge” shows us the power of mentorship and discipleship, being shaped by someone further along the journey. “Soul on Fire,” based on Jon O’Leary’s remarkable true story, shows us something even more profound. O’Leary survived burns covering ninety-five percent of his body as a young boy. He could have been defined by tragedy. He could have let his circumstances be his thermostat, setting the temperature of his life at despair. Instead, he chose to be a thermostat himself. He rose above the pain, transformed his suffering into purpose, and now influences countless others through his resilience and faith. And “Woodlawn” shows us what it looks like to hold true north even when the world pressures you to compromise, to abandon your convictions for comfort or acceptance.

These aren’t just inspiring stories. They’re blueprints. They show us that recalibration is possible. That staying true is possible. That becoming a thermostat instead of a thermometer is a choice we can make, again and again, as many times as we need to.

Your spiritual practices matter: prayer, scripture reading, community, confession, accountability. These aren’t optional extras. They’re your instruments. They’re how you read your bearings and stay on course. And when you feel yourself drifting, and you will, these are how you recalibrate.

The choice is yours. Will you be shaped by your surroundings, or will you shape them? Will you drift with the current, or will you stay plumb? Will you ignore the re-calibration alerts, or will you trust them and adjust course? Every single day, and sometimes every single hour, you get to answer that question anew. and that’s the thermostat life: active, intentional, and fixed on true north.

David Almgren – Two Pastors, Popcorn and a Movie Podcast