Faith, Discernment, and the Tools We Choose

When I first started playing around with AI writing tools, I didn’t hesitate at all. I saw the potential; speed, organization, fresh ideas, and honestly, I was curious about how it could fit into my work. At first, it felt exciting, like someone had just handed me this brand-new set of paints and said, “Go see what you can make.” But as time went on and I kept hearing the debates about AI in writing, music, and art, I started to feel the weight of the controversy. All these questions about authorship, originality, and what it means to truly “create” started creeping in.

Even with those doubts, I’m still pushing forward. And part of that is because this whole thing feels… familiar.

The thought actually came to me earlier this year, and it’s kind of funny how it happened. I had a dream, literally, a dream, about a children’s book project. When I woke up, I wrote it down, and that dream became the starting point for what’s now my first children’s book. I even shared the original idea in a blog post (here’s the link if you want to see where it started). That dream reminded me how inspiration can come from anywhere, and how sometimes it’s not about where the idea comes from, but what you do with it afterward.

The Familiar Fork in the Road

Years ago, I was building a career in nutrition and exercise, completely in-person, completely relationship-based. When the online wellness space started to explode, my first thought was, How in the world could something so physical be replicated online? I couldn’t imagine how the relationship I had with clients, the one-on-one attention, and even something as basic as spotting someone during a workout could be replaced by a screen. So I ignored the shift. I didn’t adapt. And I watched as the opportunity passed me by.

AI feels like another turning point. I could sit back and wait for the controversy to settle, or I could step in, thoughtfully and prayerfully, before the moment moves on without me.

Prayer, Listening, and the Human Side of Discernment

For me, adopting a new tool isn’t just about features or efficiency. It’s about conviction. And conviction, in my life, is shaped through prayer, discerned listening, and the messy, imperfect process of trying to live it out. I wish I could say I always know exactly when something is from the Lord and when it’s just my own idea. The truth is, I don’t. That’s a normal human struggle. We weigh things. We seek counsel. We watch for the fruit. And sometimes, we step forward still unsure if we’ve heard perfectly.

Looking back, I can see that when the wellness world shifted online, I wasn’t really trying to live out God’s nudges in my life. It was more about me and my career at the time, my goals, my comfort zone. Maybe that’s why it felt easier to just let go when the change came. I didn’t see it as an opportunity to serve differently; I saw it as the end of something I had built.

This time is different. The idea to use AI wasn’t something I drummed up on my own—it came in a way that felt unexpected, even a little outside my comfort zone. That’s partly why I’m paying attention to it.

The Extremes

In every area I’ve worked, nutrition, exercise, BIE, apologetics, I’ve seen two extremes: those who dismiss new approaches entirely, and those who embrace them as if they’re the ultimate solution. In fact, I wrote about this in a Facebook post once, using my work with BIE as an example. In that post, I shared how the tension reminded me of Martin Luther, who said he had to fight on two fronts, against those who denied reform altogether and those who took it so far they distorted the message. I’ve seen that same pattern play out with AI. On one hand, some warn it will erode human creativity and truth. On the other hand, some promise it will solve every bottleneck in business and art. As with most things, the reality is usually somewhere in between.

Why I’m Choosing to Use AI … Openly

When I think about whether the Lord would use new technology to spread hope, my answer is yes. He has done that all through history. The printing press scared a lot of leaders at first. They worried it would spread bad information and take away authority, but it ended up putting Scripture and learning into the hands of everyday people. Radio sent the gospel and encouragement into homes. Television taught, connected, and inspired. The internet, for all its flaws, has let ministries reach people in places we never could have before. None of these tools were perfect. They all came with risks and responsibilities. But they also opened doors for truth and hope to go farther than ever.

That is why I think we need boundaries. A tool is just a tool. It is not a source of truth, and it can’t replace human wisdom. I am open about when I use AI. I still lean on my own study, prayer, and a lot of editing. I am also really glad I learned to write the hard way first, through years of school and practice, before I ever invited AI into my process.

I do feel for teachers right now, trying to figure out how to handle this in schools. Let’s be honest, most fifteen-year-olds are not going to think, “I should struggle to learn it first before I use the tool.” Learning the basics: grammar, sentence structure, critical thinking, and research skills. When I was writing my thesis, a local shop owner chuckled when I came in asking for index cards, but he had everything I needed. My professors suggested fancy online organizing tools, but they never worked for me. I had to write my thoughts down on paper, in my own handwriting, and sort them into color-coded cards so I could move them around and see the patterns.

Who’s with me on this? If I write my grocery list on paper, I almost never have to take it out of my purse once I’m in the store. But if I type it into an app, I end up checking it line by line in the aisles. There’s just something about paper that makes my brain hold onto the plan. I learned that by doing it the hard way first.

Moving Forward

I am not going to repeat the mistake I made in nutrition and exercise, when I waited too long to adapt. Back then, I saw the change coming, but I stayed rooted in what felt safe. I assumed the old way would always be the only way, and by the time I realized the shift was permanent, the opportunity had passed me by.

This time, I am choosing a different path. I will lean in early, even if there is some hesitation. I will let prayer, discernment, and careful boundaries guide my choices. I will stay teachable while still holding onto my values.

AI may be a new and sometimes uncomfortable space, but I believe that is exactly why I should approach it with both courage and caution. I am willing to wrestle with the hard questions instead of sitting on the sidelines. I am willing to risk learning in public if it means staying faithful to my calling.

In my next post, I will share more about what it looks like to adapt when the career you trained for no longer looks the same, and why that shift does not have to be the end of your calling. In fact, sometimes it can be the doorway to the next chapter of the work you were made to do. My hope is that you will walk with me through this process, not just as a reader, but as someone willing to explore what faith, wisdom, and adaptability look like in your own life.