Deacon Paul Nghia Pham

LEARNING TO WALK ANOTHER STREET

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and pleasing and perfect.” — Romans 12:2

Portia Nelson once told a story so brief it could be read in a single sitting, yet so honest it can take a lifetime to absorb. She called it An Autobiography in Five Very Short Chapters — not because it summarized her life alone, but because it quietly revealed the pattern of many lives.

It begins simply.

A person walks down a street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. They fall in.

The fall is sudden. Painful. Confusing. The person feels trapped, helpless, overwhelmed. It takes forever to climb out. And the conclusion feels obvious: It isn’t my fault.

Most of us recognize this chapter immediately. It is the chapter of surprise — the first failure, the first addiction, the first broken relationship, the first time we say, “I don’t know how this happened.” The hole feels unfair. Life feels cruel. Circumstances feel stacked against us.

So we promise ourselves it will never happen again.

Then comes Chapter Two.

The same street.
The same hole.
The same fall.

This time, there is disbelief instead of shock. How did I end up here again? The language shifts slightly, but the conclusion remains familiar: It still isn’t my fault.

This chapter is harder to admit. It is the chapter of denial. We begin to sense the pattern, but we resist naming it. We blame timing, other people, stress, bad luck — anything except the road we chose to walk again.

It still takes a long time to get out.

Then comes Chapter Three.

The person walks down the same street. The hole is still there. But now something changes.

The eyes are open.

The fall still happens — not because the hole was hidden, but because habit is powerful. The difference is not in the fall, but in the ownership. I know where I am. It is my fault.

This is the turning point.

It is the moment responsibility replaces excuses. The moment honesty replaces self-deception. The person does not stay trapped long this time. Awareness shortens the suffering. Truth, even when painful, becomes liberating.

Chapter Three is uncomfortable, but it is sacred ground. It is where growth begins.

Then comes Chapter Four.

The same street.
The same hole.

But this time, the person walks around it.

No drama. No fall. No rescue required. Just a quiet decision to act differently.

This chapter rarely gets applause. There is nothing heroic about avoiding the hole. No one cheers when temptation is resisted, when a destructive habit is sidestepped, when a harmful pattern is quietly refused. But this is where maturity takes root.

Finally, Chapter Five.

The person walks down another street.

This is not just behavior change. This is transformation.

It is the realization that some streets are not meant to be navigated carefully — they are meant to be left behind. Wisdom is no longer measured by how quickly we recover from falling, but by whether we continue choosing the same road.

Portia Nelson’s genius lies in how gently she tells the truth. She does not condemn the person who falls. She does not shame the one who repeats the pattern. She simply shows how awareness grows — slowly, imperfectly — until freedom becomes possible.

Scripture speaks to this journey with equal honesty. Transformation, it tells us, is not instantaneous. It is a renewal of the mind — a gradual reshaping of how we see, choose, and live. We are not asked merely to avoid falling. We are invited to become different people.

Most of us live somewhere between Chapter Two and Chapter Three.

We see the hole, but still fall.
We recognize the pattern, but struggle to break it.
We want change, but fear what it will cost.

And so we stay on familiar streets, even when they wound us.

There is comfort in the known, even when it is harmful. A familiar hole feels safer than an unfamiliar road. At least we know how to climb out. At least we know who to blame.

But grace does not exist merely to help us out of holes. Grace exists to teach us how to walk.

God does not shame us for falling. He waits patiently for awareness to dawn. He rejoices not only when we repent, but when we learn. And He walks with us as we practice new steps.

The story reminds us that change is rarely dramatic. It unfolds in small decisions:

To admit responsibility.
To pause instead of pretending.
To choose differently when the moment returns.

Eventually, courage grows. The path widens. A new street appears.

And one day, we look back and realize something remarkable: the hole did not disappear. We simply stopped walking toward it.

This is hope.

No one is trapped forever in Chapter One.
No one is condemned to repeat Chapter Two endlessly.
With honesty, humility, and grace, Chapter Three can arrive.

And when it does, a new chapter always waits.

If you find yourself falling again today, take heart. Awareness is already working. If you are learning to walk around the hole, be patient — strength is forming. And if you are brave enough to seek another street, trust this truth:

God delights not in perfect walkers, but in willing ones.

The story of a life is not defined by how many times we fall, but by whether we keep learning how — and where — to walk.

And sometimes, the holiest step we will ever take is simply choosing a different road.