Source: Be a Quitter. Publisher: Nick Brady | Author: Nick Brady Published: February 26, 2026 | Archived: March 31, 2026

The complexity that modern life has brought to us is astounding.

Imagine living on a homestead just a few centuries ago in, say, a small town in the American South:

• You only knew and interacted regularly with the people in your immediate circle. You wholly depended on each other for help in day to day life. You didn’t have to be “intentional” about community. Community was life.

• The information that you took in concerning news going on in the world outside was sparse and sporadic. You weren’t actively concerned about things that didn’t immediately affect you, your family, and your community.

• It was quiet. No TV’s, radios, phones, computers, vying for your attention. No cars honking or engines roaring. No dishwashers or dryers rumbling or beeping. It was easy and natural to think deeply, pray deeply, talk deeply, read deeply.

• You woke up with the daylight and went to bed with the darkness. No staying up late willy-nilly to grind it out or watch three more episodes of Bridgerton.

• Errands and administrative work were minimal to nonexistent. You weren’t maintaining a bunch of devices and structures that you didn’t know how to fix yourself, and you weren’t entangled in a variety of pursuits outside the home.

• You didn’t have to make much money or buy many things—if you didn’t produce it yourself on your own land, you traded or sold your excess to buy the few things that you didn’t have.

• You didn’t have too many ambitions beyond the farm. No big career paths to aspire to. No dream vacations to plan. No retirement to save for.

I don’t mean to romanticize—I fully recognize that there were also many hardships associated with pre-modern life that we do not face now. (I also realize that there were other modes of pre-modern life besides the homesteader in the American South.)

But at the same time, I think that, in all honesty, it’s your personal set of values that determines whether you would prefer a mode of life like I described above, or whatever it is that we modern Americans have today.

As those who know me might be aware, over the years I have lived in a variety of different unusual circumstances as I have experimented with lifestyles that might perhaps be more conducive to living for the Kingdom of God. This has taken place both as a single and a married man.

As a single man, I have lived, at various points: on a farm in rural Colombia (South America), in a variety of apartments/rental houses with a bunch of other single brothers, in my car (for a few months), WWOOFing on a self-sufficient family farm near my hometown (for a few weeks), and in a camper on the homestead of my friends, with no internet access.

As a married man, my wife and I have lived, at various points: sharing a condo with another family with our church, in an apartment on our own, in my grandmother’s suite at my parents’ house after she passed away, in a camper on the same friends’ homestead mentioned above, in a fixer-upper house in a historic district with no internet or television, in another camper on our current property in Alabama, and now in the house that my wife grew up in, which we share with our mother-in-law.

When I have reflected on and compared these experiences, I have consistently found that the times in my life where I had the deepest prayer life, where I had the most spiritual growth, and where I was the most “other-oriented,” was in the times when my life was simplest. When I had less technology, less internet connection, less outside commitments, less possessions, and less money. My mind, my time, and my energy were much freer for higher concerns.

Things aren’t quite like that now, I must admit.

But the battle is not over. I will not give up.

One of my biggest life pursuits has been the ongoing search for practical ways to resist the patterns of modern life so as to live a more holistic and holy existence, but without having to completely “escape” the world (as much as I would love to live in a cabin in the middle of nowhere—something akin to Viggo Mortensen’s family in the movie Captain Fantastic, but with faith in Christ 😂).

One of these practicalities has been developing a willingness to regularly do an “inventory” of my life (and my family’s life) to determine what things—possessions, commitments, routines/habits, scheduled activities, expenditures, etc.—are worth keeping/continuing and which are worth tossing/quitting.

Many years ago, at a very large Christian conference that I attended, there was a speaker there who was a prominent businessman who talked about the great value in having a “Stop-Doing” List, as opposed to a “To-Do” list. The idea was that, if you knew the purpose for which you and/or your organization existed, then what you really have to direct your energy toward is protecting yourself from a million things that aren’t serving that purpose. All of the “great ideas” and “rabbit holes” that the world will want to offer are mere distractions from having a singular focus.

This principle has been reinforced for me time and time again.

While we may not all be in the position of the apostles, where we are called by God to literally or physically “leave everything behind and follow Jesus,” we are still all called to have that same spirit—that same willingness—to part with anything and everything that is hindering us in the pursuit of the call of God. Family or no family. House or no house. Career or no career.

What are we willing to “quit” so that the Lord can have his way?

I hope, as we continue through Lent, to discuss some of the specific things that us modern Americans might hold under prime consideration for the chopping block.

In the interest of being transparent, as well as being true to principles I have shared in this article, I have had to re-assess my writing habits for Substack.

I started this thing out hoping to spend, say…30-45 minutes a day on Monday through Thursday, writing. I was thinking of this as more as a quick journal entry.

However, that 30-45 minutes quickly turned into 2-3 hours. I didn’t realize that the format and culture of Substack “articles” would make me lean toward lengthiness. I want to leave more time for engaging with others. I also think that a full article a day is also too much for readers to really digest.

And to be honest, I need time for other sorts of reading and writing in the wee hours of the morning when this thing tends to get churned out.

Therefore, starting next week, I am going to start experimenting with something different:

1. I am going to try doing a short Substack note on Monday through Wednesday (a few hundred words max), which I will also post separately on Facebook. Something quick and easy to digest.

2. On Thursdays, I will do an article similar to what I’ve been doing thus far.

3. Occasionally (maybe monthly or seasonally) I hope to start doing a longer article which involves more research, which I may post on Fridays.

4. I also would like to start seeking people in my community to do guest posts. If you are in my orbit and think similarly on any of the topics on which I write, reach out to me if you are interested!

Thank you all for your participation in this endeavor thus far!