Inner Reflections. By Peace Olaluwoye

2 Corinthians 10:5 – Casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of
 Christ,

Debate or Default: The Famous Quagmire.

Not long ago, I stumbled across a post by the author of Diary of a CEO. He spoke earnestly about how exercising on default–without overthinking it–transformed his life. His words settled in my mind like morning fog across a quiet lake. I found myself nodding slowly, because I too have been chewing on a similar thought.

Debate, I’ve come to realize, is often a luxury we entertain far too long. It's exhausting; like trying to explain colour to someone who insists on only seeing black and white. Default, on the other hand, often gets a bad reputation–dismissed as mindless or mechanical. But perhaps that's an unfair reading.

I’ve watched people, with puzzled faces, ask others questions like: “Why did you marry him?” “Why do you love her?” “Why this path?” “Why that decision?” As though if something cannot be dissected and pinned down with bullet points, it must be meaningless. But that’s not true.

Sometimes no reason is one of the most powerful reasons of all.

Can you imagine if Jesus had waited for a reason to love us? Or a reason to die for us? He would still be searching–scrolling through the debris of our ingratitude, our inconsistencies, our flawed humanity. Yet He didn't wait. He acted. Out of love. Out of purpose. Out of divine default.

That’s when it hit me. Some things must shift from debate to default–not because they are easy, but because they are essential.

We carry in our minds centuries of conditioning–ancestral memories coded in DNA, neural pathways carved deep like dry riverbeds. Some of these thought patterns have grown into towering strongholds. They won’t be dismantled by a single moment of clarity or a few motivational quotes. No. These are not pebbles you kick aside–they are mountains.

So yes, fighting them will take time. Especially when the enemy is invisible. When it wears the face of fear on Monday and the mask of laziness by Friday.

I've come to believe that most of the inner battles we lose are the ones we keep debating. Like a teenager arguing over curfews or rebelling against the vegetables on their plate. You know what’s good for them. You see the warning signs. But they insist–blindly–on going through it, rather than growing through it.

That’s when you, as a parent, raise your voice and say, “No more talk.” That’s when you echo what God told Moses: “Enough of this. Do not speak to Me anymore about this matter.” Even God, infinitely patient, drew a line.

So yes. Default–deciding ahead of time to do the right thing–can be the muscle that pins debate to the mat. Especially when you've already measured the options, weighed the consequences, and seen clearly that this is the path of wisdom.

No more circling the mountain. No more justifying delay. Sometimes the only way forward is to move forward.

So today, I choose default. I choose discipline. I choose to stop negotiating with what I already know must be done. Because obedience doesn’t always come dressed in fireworks. Sometimes it walks quietly, barefoot, steady—and still changes everything.