Arnold C. Gamboa

When Saying No Is a Spiritual Practice

"Yes" used to be my default setting. New project at work? Yes. Head the committee? Absolutely. Help organize the last-minute meet-up that I just heard about? Sigh... yes.

My calendar looked like a game of Tetris where all the blocks were falling simultaneously. Somehow, I'd convinced myself that availability was the same thing as faithfulness—as if saying "no" was somehow letting God and everyone else down.

Here's what I've learned the hard way: Not every opportunity is an assignment. Sometimes, saying "no" isn't just permissible—it's spiritual.

Even Jesus—who had the most important mission in history—didn't heal every sick person, visit every town, or respond to every need. He often withdrew to quiet places. He knew His limits weren't a design flaw but a divine reminder of His humanity.

We admire boundaries in nature—the shoreline that tells the ocean "this far and no further"—yet feel guilty establishing them in our own lives. What if your "no" is actually creating space for someone else's "yes"? What if declining that commitment isn't selfish but stewardship of the limited energy you've been given?

A thoughtful "no" honors the truth of your capacity. It acknowledges that you are finite, and that's exactly how you were created to be. Only God is infinite—a reality we often forget in our superhero culture.

Next time you feel that reflexive "yes" rising, pause. Ask yourself: Is this mine to carry? Am I saying yes out of guilt, fear, or obligation? Your best "yes" answers require brave "no" moments. That's not just good advice—it's good theology.