Whoever Practices Righteousness…
Twenty-eight years of love
“And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.” — James 3:18
Dearest Daughters,
Something my dad once told me has stayed with me for years. He said righteousness is when your thoughts, your words, your actions, and your relationships all line up—with each other, and with God’s purposes. It’s not just about doing the right thing; it’s about being whole.
Righteousness brings peace. It draws the fragmented pieces of our lives together, weaving integrity where there was once inconsistency. It pulls us into integration instead of disintegration—into connection, not conflict. As James wrote, “The fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace” (James 3:18).
But this kind of righteousness isn’t automatic. The apostle John said, “He who practices righteousness is righteous, just as He is righteous” (1 John 3:7). Did you catch that? It must be practiced. That means it takes effort. Intention. Deliberate choices, day after day.
It’s easy for a Christian woman to say with her mouth, “I submit to my husband.” But what about her tone? Her timing? Her inner posture? What if her words say yes, but her actions whisper no? That’s not righteousness; that’s pretense. Scripture says, “Let love be without hypocrisy” (Rom. 12:9). So it’s possible to appear loving while withholding true love in the heart.
This dissonance—when our behavior and our inner attitude are out of sync—drains the life from our faith. It may look like submission, but it’s really a subtle rebellion, a kind of guerrilla warfare that plays out in sarcasm, cold silence, or thinly veiled criticism. And over time, it erodes the trust that marriage needs to flourish.
The kingdom of God is not built with bricks and mortar; it’s built with relationships. That means righteousness isn’t just about moral decisions. It’s about being rightly related to others. John says plainly, “Whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is he who does not love his brother” (1 John 3:10). In the end, we won’t be judged on how many arguments we won, how many facts we got right, or how clever our reasoning was, but on how we loved.
When you stand before the Lord at the end of your life, do you really think He will check whether your scheduling was better than your husband’s? Was this meal more tasty than that? Was this vacation more suited than that? Should we have used this curriculum over that, or even chosen this vocation rather than that? No. He will ask whether your heart was consumed by His love, your mind tempered by His Spirit, your actions guided by His sacrifice. The attitude of the heart is what God is looking at.
Paul says, “The only thing that counts is faith working through love” (Gal. 5:6). So yes, the small things matter—vacation plans, daily routines, parenting decisions—but what matters more is the spirit and attitude we carry into those discussions. Are we building peace? Or are we bulldozing our house to make a point?
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands” (Prov. 14:1). I often think about that verse when I feel the urge to “set something straight.” There are ways to speak truth that don’t fracture unity. There are ways to be strong without being hard. And there are ways to suggest adjustments that aren’t manipulative.
Remember, dearest daughters, we’re not just tending our own households—we’re part of something much larger. Scripture says we together are God’s temple, and His Spirit dwells among us. And it gives this sobering warning: “If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person” (1 Cor. 3:16-17; Eph. 2:21-22).
That means the way we treat one another—especially those closest to us—is sacred ground. Do not destroy that temple.
Does righteousness mean you can never speak up, never ask questions, never express concern? Of course not. But it does mean asking this: Am I building or am I breaking?
Let me offer a picture. If your cabinet door is crooked, you don’t burn the whole kitchen down. But how many times have we let a minor frustration spiral into something truly destructive? How often has ego demanded the final word when love would’ve chosen meek understanding?
I remember a story about a young couple who lived this out in a beautiful way. They had planned a short trip to visit relatives. The husband chose the timing, but the wife felt uneasy about leaving then because of important community activities at home. She gently suggested waiting, but he was convinced his plan worked best for both family and work. After wrestling in prayer, she felt the Lord whisper, “Let it go. In the bigger scheme, this doesn’t matter. Trust Me.” So she chose to submit cheerfully, planning the trip and enjoying it—though she still suspected they might have chosen the wrong time.
Sure enough, while they were away, some circumstances made him restless and wishing he were home. She noticed, but she kept silent, trusting God’s order. When they returned, to her surprise, he went to speak with her father about the trip. It was the first time he had ever initiated such a conversation, and it opened the door to a mentoring relationship she had long prayed for.
Had she insisted on her own way, they might have been home for those events and the trip might have been “better timed,” but that deeper bond between her father and her husband may never have formed. What looked like a misstep was, in God’s hands, a step toward something far greater. Only He sees the whole picture. I should know, for I was the wife in this story.
Righteousness never glorifies the self. It seeks peace. It sows gently, waits patiently, and honors God’s design even in the small, hidden moments. This is the gentle, radiant strength of a godly woman.
Let’s keep practicing, my daughters. It won’t always come easily, but it will always be worth it.
With all my love,
Mom
