Most of us know the usual answers for growing in Christ: read the Bible, pray, and serve others. And those are absolutely essential. But if we stop there, we risk seeing spiritual growth as a checklist rather than a transformative way of life. The goal isn’t just to do Christian things to be conformed to Christ; we must think like Him, love like Him, and move through the world as He would.
So, what does that actually look like in real life beyond the usual spiritual disciplines? Let’s talk about some unexpected ways we can be shaped into His image, things that don’t always show up in a sermon or a devotional plan but are just as crucial.
First, if we are honest, we avoid discomfort like the plague. Culturally, we’re conditioned to seek convenience, security, and ease. But Jesus willingly walked toward discomfort. He touched lepers, dined with outcasts, and had deep conversations with people others ignored. He didn’t just endure discomfort; He used it as a tool to shape His mission.
If we want to become like Christ, we need to stop running from discomfort and start seeing it as a spiritual practice. This doesn’t mean chasing suffering for its own sake but rather leaning in when we feel stretched. Maybe it’s choosing to stay in a hard conversation instead of shutting down. Maybe it’s stepping into an unfamiliar space where we feel out of place. Maybe it’s fasting not just from food but from the need always to feel comfortable, understood, or in control.
Growth happens in tension. The more we embrace situations that stretch us, the more we learn to depend on Christ rather than our own comfort zones.
Have you noticed that our world is loud? Every spare moment is filled with noise: podcasts, music, social media, and endless scrolling. Even when we’re not interested, our minds are overstimulated. We say we want to hear from God, but how often do we give Him any silence to speak?
What if one of the most radical things you could do for your spiritual growth was to be still? No phone, no background music, no reading material, no distractions. Just sit in the quiet, let your thoughts settle, and be aware of God’s presence.
Now, if you are a person who needs to be moving to hear from God, a bike ride or walk in the woods is perfectly acceptable; the idea is less noise. This isn’t just about peace. It’s about training yourself to receive rather than constantly consuming or producing. Jesus regularly withdrew to quiet places, not just to pray but to be with the Father in undistracted intimacy. When we do the same, we create space for conviction, creativity, and a deeper awareness of how God is working in and around us.
Jesus didn’t avoid hard questions. He engaged with them, sometimes answering His questions to push people deeper. Too often, we surround ourselves with voices that reinforce our beliefs. But what if growing in Christ means being willing to wrestle with different perspectives not in fear but in confidence that truth can withstand scrutiny?
I can’t think of the last book I read by someone outside my theological camp. I know what you are going to say, “Why would anyone waste time reading something so different from my beliefs?” I would challenge you that all truth belongs to God. What if we listened to someone’s story without rushing to correct them, or when we engaged with difficult biblical passages instead of skipping over them? Being conformed to Christ means developing a faith that isn’t just inherited but deeply understood, tested, refined, and made stronger through engagement with tough questions.
Jesus had a completely countercultural way of seeing people. He didn’t just notice them; He saw them fully beyond their reputation, their mistakes, or their status.
How often do we actually see people? Do you not just glance at them but truly take them in? The coworker who seems distant, the grocery store cashier who scans your items without eye contact, the neighbor who keeps to themselves. Every person is an image-bearer of God, but we often treat them like background noise in our own personal story.
Try this: The next time you interact with someone, pause. Look them in the eye. Ask a follow-up question. Notice their body language, their tone, and their energy. Be present. Seeing people as Christ does isn’t just about grand gestures of service. It’s about how we acknowledge people and their dignity daily.
We like structure. We like knowing what’s coming next. Jesus, on the other hand, lived with open hands. One of His most profound moments of ministry happened in what seemed like interruptions, like someone grabbing His robe, a Pharisee challenging Him, or a child wanting His attention. He wasn’t flustered by unexpected moments; He embraced them as divine appointments.
What if you saw interruptions as opportunities instead of getting annoyed when your plans are disrupted? The person who stops you when you’re in a hurry or that last-minute request that throws off your schedule. Christ-like transformation happens when we surrender our agenda and make room for God’s unexpected ways to use us.
Jesus was a carpenter before He was a teacher. His ministry didn’t start in a synagogue; it started in a workshop. He touched, built, and shaped physical things. There’s something deeply spiritual about creating with our hands, whether it’s woodworking, painting, gardening, or even cooking.
We often think of spiritual growth as an intellectual or emotional process, but sometimes, it’s deeply physical. It’s an act of worship, of presence, of slowing down and paying attention to the details of something outside ourselves.
So much of modern life is digital and detached from the tangible world. What would happen if you took up a practice that forced you to slow down and engage with creation in a hands-on way? t might just shape your soul in ways you never expected.
We live in a culture obsessed with being seen, liked, shared, and recognized. Yet Jesus often told people not to talk about His miracles. He withdrew when crowds tried to elevate Him. His greatest act, dying for the world, happened in humiliation, not glory.
What if one of the most Christ-like things you could do was something no one ever knows about? Serving without posting about it, living without recognition, praying for someone without telling them.
There is a holiness in hiddenness. It purifies our motives and teaches us to live in God’s eyes alone. The more we practice unseen faithfulness, the more we detach from the need for human approval and anchor ourselves in God’s quiet sufficiency.
Spiritual growth isn’t about adding more things to your to-do list. It’s about becoming someone different, someone more attuned to God, more aware of others, and more surrendered to the unexpected ways He shapes us.
Maybe you’ll try one of these this week: sitting in silence, letting yourself be interrupted, or looking someone in the eye and really seeing them. Becoming like Christ doesn’t always happen in grand, dramatic moments. More often, it happens in the quiet, ordinary, where we learn to lean in, let go, and allow Him to do the deep work of transformation.
What’s one way God might be calling you to grow right now? Spend a minute in the quiet and see if, by creating a space for God, He will fill it in unexpected ways.