Spiritually
Programmed
for Success
Have you ever felt like you just stopped?
Like one day you were on your way somewhere—mentally, spiritually, maybe even physically—and then out of nowhere, you just... settled? Not because of an obvious obstacle. Not because life forced your hand. You just quit. Sat down. Stayed longer than you planned.
If that sounds familiar, I want you to know—you’re not alone. And more than that, there’s a word from God for you today. Let’s look at the story of a man named Terah in Genesis 11, and let’s talk about a place called Haran.
Three Locations on the Journey
Genesis 11 introduces us to Terah, the father of Abram (later Abraham). The Scripture tells us that Terah left his homeland, Ur of the Chaldeans, with the intention of going to Canaan. But along the way, he came to a place called Haran—and he settled there (Genesis 11:31).
He never made it to Canaan. He died in Haran.
These three places—Ur, Haran, and Canaan—aren’t just geography. They represent something powerful for all of us.
Ur is the city that shapes you.
Canaan is the place of purpose.
Haran is the terrain that traps you.
Let’s walk through each of these together.
Ur – The City That Shapes You
Ur is where Terah’s journey began. It's where his family roots were planted. It’s the place where something deeply traumatic happened—his son Haran died. And not just died—he died in Terah’s presence.
You don’t walk away from something like that untouched.
Now maybe you haven’t gone through something that intense. But I bet you’ve had something shape you. We all have. Whether nurturing or disruptive, every experience builds the framework of how we see the world.
Some things made you feel safe. Others made you feel small. But either way, those moments are in your Ur. They shape how you think, how you feel, and how you move forward.
Canaan – The Place of Purpose
Canaan represents the place Terah intended to go. And in the larger narrative of Scripture, it’s the land that God would later give to Abraham and his descendants.
Let me tell you something today: there is a Canaan for you. There is a place of calling, of destiny, of promise. But listen carefully—Canaan comes with a cost.
If you want to step into your purpose, there are decisions you’re going to have to make. There’s an agreement in life between cause and effect. You can do anything—but if you want that, it costs what it costs.
No shortcuts. No discounts. No sales.
I remember walking into a luxury store in Sarasota—where I used to live—and asking if they did Black Friday sales. The employee looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Sir, if you want to live this kind of life, it costs what it costs.”
The place of purpose costs what it costs.
And it doesn't matter how traumatic your past has been, how difficult your starting point was, or who did what to you—Canaan demands the same decisions from all of us.
Haran – The Terrain That Traps You
Now here’s where things get sticky.
Haran wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t the starting point. And it wasn’t the destination. It was just a stop along the way. But Terah settled there. And he died there.
Why?
There’s no external reason. The text doesn’t tell us there were enemies, or famine, or failure. But what it does tell us is the name: Haran. The same name as his son who had died.
Imagine walking into a place that reminds you of the thing that hurt you the most. That’s what Terah faced. And I believe his brain and body went into full-on protection mode. Let me explain.
What Is the Reticular Activating System?
The Reticular Activating System is a bundle of nerves located in the brainstem that plays a key role in regulating attention and perception. It functions by filtering incoming sensory information—helping the brain determine what is relevant—and by shaping how that information is interpreted, primarily through the lens of past memory and emotion.
Experiences, especially formative or traumatic ones, effectively program the Reticular Activating System. As a result, an individual may respond to neutral or even positive stimuli as if they are threats, simply because those stimuli are associated with past adverse experiences.
When this occurs, the Reticular Activating System activates the body’s stress response. The hypothalamus triggers a cascade of physiological changes—elevated heart rate, shallow breathing, increased alertness—while activity in the prefrontal cortex, responsible for logic and decision-making, is reduced.
In these moments, responses like retreating, deferring, or freezing are common—not because of conscious choice, but because neurochemistry has taken over, overriding a person’s decisions, determination, or drive.
That’s what I believe happened to Terah. He walked into a city with the same name as his son. His Reticular Activating System kicked in. His body said, “Danger is here.” Not because there was danger—but because it felt like danger. His system was screaming: Keep everyone safe. Don’t move forward. Stay right here.
And he did. He stayed. He settled.
And that’s exactly what many of us do. Not because we’re lazy. Not because we’re rebellious. But because something inside us—something programmed by our past—is quietly shutting us down. Haran feels safe. But it’s stopping you from Canaan.
The Anointing to Start Again
Just because Terah died in Haran doesn’t mean you have to.
Genesis 12 opens with God speaking to Abram: “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1, ESV). And Abram went. He obeyed. He moved. He stepped into the unknown under the anointing of God.
Let me tell you something powerful: you can be reprogrammed. Science calls it neuroplasticity. Scripture calls it the renewing of your mind (Romans 12:2, ESV).
You don’t have to stay stuck. You don’t have to keep circling the same mountain. You don’t have to make peace with paralysis. There is an anointing to start again.
The Holy Spirit can override every fear-based signal in your brain. He can whisper through every scream of insecurity. He can breathe life into dead dreams and courage into wounded hearts.
The Holy Spirit has a distaste for your Haran. He delights in your prosperity (Psalm 35:27, ESV). He wants you to get to your place of purpose.
I Am the One
In John 1, the Pharisees pressed John the Baptist: “Who are you?”
And John finally answered, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said” (John 1:23, ESV).
And maybe that’s what you need to do today. Maybe it’s time for you to square your shoulders, lift your voice, and say:
I am the one.
I’m the one who’s about to break loose.
I’m the one who’s not going to die in Haran.
I’m the one who’s going to move forward.
I’m the one who’s leaving the terrain that trapped me.
I’m the one stepping into the place of purpose.
Go ahead. Say it out loud if you need to.
Put it on paper. Write it on your mirror. Text it to your accountability partner. Do whatever you’ve got to do—but make the decision today:
I’m leaving Haran. And I’m heading into my Canaan.