The consequence of commitment

We said yes in 2015.

We said yes to leadership opportunities.

We said yes financially to a church building campaign.

We said yes to renewed pursuit of dissolved dreams revived by a gracious God.

And each time we said yes, the paved walkway beneath our confident feet crumbled. Soon our beautiful roadway was nothing more than a dirt foot trail filled with pot holes and stumbling blocks lingering in opportunity to stall progress.

Our normally healthy kiddo, hospitalized during Thanksgiving.

Financial strain we haven’t experienced in years.

Struggling census creating a bit of job insecurity.

Behavior issues with my kids requiring professional intervention.

Turmoil. Pressure. Struggle.

A pendulum of priorities vying for my attention.

Adopting an attitude expecting the unexpected. Waking each day wondering how my well planned life became such a hot mess.

God, is this what is means to say yes to you?

I struggled with this question.  For months. It caused me to pause in writing. It caused me to dig deeper and differently into his truth. It caused me to review my base motives.

And one day, God spoke:

Why are you above the struggle?

Why indeed?

The course of the last few months have shaken the core foundation of my jaded beliefs and caused me to reinforce the cracks with concrete evidence of God’s truth. The truth about who I am and the truth about why I am here.

And seriously, it’s not about me at all.

It’s not about my comfort.

It’s not about living on my own steam.

For a good percentage of my life, I have lived with the misconception that if the call comes from God, it should be easy. Friends, this is a lie.

When we said yes, when I said yes, I told God I was willing to stretch beyond my comfort in order that I could lean upon his strength. “I can do all things,” is no longer a fancy t-shirt slogan. It’s a core belief. Right when life seems impossible and it seems we have nothing left, God shows up in a provisional way time and time again.

I’ve also learned when I have nothing left, God still wants me to give. My time, energy, resources, finances- the list is endless. But it’s his. The calling is still mine.  No one else is going to pursue it, even when I don’t feel like it. No one else is going to type the words he lays on my heart to say. No one else is going to make tough calls on behalf of my marriage, family and home. No one else is performing the hard work it takes to live the life he created for ME to live.

I’ve learned I cannot live my call alone. The people he has handpicked for my life are mine.  My job? Learn who they are. What makes them tick. Discover their love language and encourage them in their own pursuit of his purpose. Above anything, I am learning to be the friend, wife and mother that I want to have.

I have learned I don’t have to know everything. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay to allow others into my weakness. Each day, I can look to God and the amazing community surrounding me for wisdom, prayer and strength.

When I continue to give my whispered yes to God from the deepest valley of life, I live life in a way I have never before experienced. I carry my cross to the finish line of faith. I learn the communication work it takes to become one-minded with fellow believers.

Daily, I ask God for my portion and daily I thank him for the grace extended to me as I die to self and increase in his image. Daily I ask for divine appointment, divine opportunity to share his love with those who most need it. I commit to him my whitespace for the day _and then the roller coaster begins. Friends, I don’t want it any other way.

Life without God is not living at all.

The consequence of commitment is a life directed by God – the author and creator of the big picture. The masterpiece I am likely to miss when I am intently focused on the snapshot of the season.

 

Redeeming Resolutions

I have a love/hate relationship with my husband’s truck. It’s big and bulky in comparison to my midsized sedan. The cup holders are always occupied and it smells funny.  The gas pedal is touchy and I can never adjust the mirrors quite right. I’m a bit insecure behind the wheel and have to pay attention to every detail while driving – namely so I don’t hit anything.

It’s expensive. I hate car payments.

But driving the testosterone truck typically serves a necessary purpose in my day – Moving new residents into my building. Escorting seniors to a safe and secure environment while making sure they have the belongings to make their new apartment feel like home.

Driving the truck is a temporary inconvenience.

Resolutions feel much the same way. They are big, bulky and overwhelming. They drag me out of my comfortable setting and they cause me to refocus and reevaluate my priorities. Unfortunately, instead of treating them as a valuable tool, I treat them as a temporary inconvenience. Something I try for a while, only to retreat to what is comfortable and convenient.

Mostly because my execution is less than perfect on the first try.  I’m a go big or go home kind of girl.  Baby steps have never really been my thing.  Oh, and obstacles?  My stars.  How many hurdles must I  jump to achieve my new goal.

In December I set a goal to work out six days a week knowing I was building up to a habit.  In January, my goal moved to working out six days a week, but doing so first thing in the morning.  This means my alarm sounds at zero dark thirty.  After my second week, I woke with my alarm ready to tackle the day.  I got up, let the dog out and saw her jet from her normal potty spot and right back to the door.

“Such a wimp”, I thought as I popped open the door to step out. Only I heard something:

 

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Mmm hmm.  Our diva dog found a kitty.  A kitty she loved upon first sight. A kitty I was not prepared to adopt at zero dark thirty on a cold Monday morning.

Then, I committed to getting my blog back on track. Ahem:

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It seems like it never ends.

So how do busy, distracted girls redeem their resolutions?  Here are a few tips and tricks I have found along the way.

Write down your resolution.

What in your life do you want to change?  Write it down.

What will it take to start your change? Write it down.

Who do you need to recruit to help or keep you accountable? Write it down.

Write down your new schedule.

In The Best Yes by Lisa Terkuerst, she makes a recommendation to take a time inventory. I took it just one step further and penciled in the schedule of my desired week fitting in my new workout and writing plans into existing white space.

Be realistic.

Can you fit this new resolution into your life?  A couple of years ago, my answer was no. I couldn’t.  My kids were little. My husband works third shift and it wouldn’t have been safe to leave them home alone in the early morning hours.  Now, they are a bit older.  A bit wiser. A bit busier. This resolution fits with my life season.

The other thing I have to consider before adding something to my life is making a serious consideration of what I need to take away. My burden might be someone else’s blessing.  What doesn’t fit into the perimeters of your life any longer?  Let go so someone else can grab on.

Count your wins

Counting your wins, no matter how small they be, is a guaranteed way to track progress. Even though I hadn’t counted on adopting a cat at dark thirty Monday morning, I still got her settled, made it to the gym, shortened my workout schedule and went on with my day.  Did I win? Yes. Because I went.  Going was the goal.

What will your wins look like?

Don’t stop

When I started running, my husband said, “If you keep putting one foot in front of the other, you won’t stop.” Keep stepping and soon your resolution will graduate to a habit. And on the days you don’t feel like stepping, step anyway.  Those days are the most important to progress.

Redeeming resolutions is a simple as making the decision to start small.  One little change today. One little change tomorrow.  One big goal met a bit more down the road. Celebrate your wins.  Don’t stop stepping.

The slogan “press on” has always solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.

Calvin Coolidge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can you trust me?

“You don’t trust me.”

Exhausted, I sit clasping the bread and the cup surrounded by people but feeling empty and alone.

“God, you’re right. I don’t. Help me trust you.”

This has been a long week.

After a few days fighting with a flu bug, my youngest Madi was hospitalized for dehydration.  It was only supposed to be 24 hours.  Compiled with a shortened work week, I was already on sick day number two of a three-day week.

But my kids will always come first.

Yet, as Thanksgiving morning dawned, two days later, her condition worsened.  She just couldn’t get over the hump. Each day I prayed for healing and each day the prayer seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Madi Hosp

It’s in these moments I realize I don’t really hold control.

And it really bugs me.

Suddenly, it’s not about me anymore.

This was the place in my heart God was speaking to.

You see, he had to remove me from the throne of my life so he could take his rightful place.

In a year of big growth, change and opportunity, God had to remind me he was still in charge.  I could whine and mope about how uncomfortable I was, but in reality, it was a thankless attitude. And now, it’s time to rebuild.

So, it’s been a couple of months since you have heard from me.  Here’s a quick update.

Madi released from the hospital the Friday after Thanksgiving. Eight straight days of vomit. If you know me well, you know this is my personal hell. I hate puke. Hate it.

Her condition amounted to nothing more than constipation. What cannot go down, goes up.

True story.

Seriously.  I’m not kidding. My kid was full of poop.

But we knew that already.

Four days later, the washer broke and by December 10th, my kids were certain we weren’t going to have a Christmas tree.

I mean, I didn’t have anywhere to put it.  We had laundry everywhere. I guess we could have strung some lights around the piles of laundry.

(insert sigh)

It was the very moment I stopped fighting for things to go my way and surrendered to the mess that God met me.

He infused me with peace.

He showed me where to start.

He provided resource.

He sent people.

He provided opportunity for service.

What started as a very complicated season turned into the simplest, most wonderful Christmas we’ve had in quite some time.

I’m continuing to learn contentment in wins both small and large.

I’m looking forward to sharing more about that with you as the month goes on.

So, if you’ve made it this far- Thank you.  I know it’s a little rusty but I promise to keep polishing as we go. Today, it was just important to start getting thoughts down on paper once more.

It’s my win for the day 🙂

 

 

 

Saying goodbye to safety

“I am not sure if I can wear this today.  A teacher might say something.”

I glance over to my son as I place the car in park.

Plain black hoodie.

Blue jeans.

“What are you wearing that would require change?”

He lifts his dog tag necklace declaring Jesus as his king of kings.

“The last time a teacher saw me wear it, she told me to tuck it in.  It might offend someone.” He replied.

I replied as any other angered mama bear would in the same situation. “So far as I know, you are a citizen of this United States and it’s still a thing to freely practice your religion here. You wear your necklace. And if another teacher says something, please take their name.”

Even as the statement passed my lips, unease set into my gut.  I need to contact administration, but I don’t know what to say.   I don’t have a teacher name.  She was a test proctor, so she may not even be employed by the school.  And really, no resolution can come from this, so why should I even open my mouth.

Heaven forbid I be lumped in with one of them.

You know them.

The weird Christians.

They’re the ones who got Halloween parades banned at school and raised a ruckus about Starbucks cups.

Yep.

Those guys.

You never know what they’re going to do to cause the next national cringe in the name of Christ.

And while they live out their belief loudly, I continue to sit here and do nothing.

The homeless shelter in our community needs larger facilities and runs into continuous roadblocks to gain valuable ground to expand their services.

I do nothing.

Families disintegrate around me.  Broken people looking for light and hope. Just a break from chaos, ugly and evil.

I say nothing.

My son, whose core character is to live quietly and peacefully with all who surround him, is approached by a teacher in what amounts to professional bullying.

I do nothing.

I don’t wanna be one of them.

I want to stay safe.

And normal.

Because blogging on the internet to process your every thought and feeling is completely normal.

But I can’t stay safe any longer.  Not in this world.  Not in these bittersweet times when our nations are under attack.  Not when so many need to see the light of hope in Christ – through me.

Christ did not come to judge the world but to save it with his life. And when he left, he told his people to go to all the ends of the earth with his message of hope.

That is so not safe.

But that’s all he asked his people to do.  To believe him. To call upon his name and to go.

To speak.

To do something.

I can’t do that without becoming one of them – okay, maybe not the Starbucks one- but still. I have to make my life count for the sole purpose of reaching another.

Not because God needs me to do it. But because he chose me to do it.

Regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation or past history. God is an equal opportunity God.  He can take all that is broken and make something new.

He’s asking me to change my heart from fear to trust. To love the homeless man who walks the street and the foreign refugee torn from their home by war.

It’s not up to me to pick and choose.

His love is open to all.

First, I must surrender my safety to his mighty cause. I must realize people become the priority and because people are involved, it’s gonna be messy.

But I can’t coach from my couch in the game of life. I have to move from the sidelines and step into the game.

I have to go write an email.

What safety zone is God challenging you from today?

I can’t pay it back, but I can pay it forward.

Fifty Dollars.

Simply tucked away in a beautiful note from a dear friend and mentor.  No terms or conditions. No reason for sending.

Just fifty dollars and a few words of encouragement on a God timed day.  I can’t remember why I needed the money.

I just remember I did.

Our kids were little.  Money was tight and this fifty dollars was a little touch of manna from heaven. And I remember thinking, “How can I ever pay her back?”

What could I give to this woman who seemed to have everything.

A small voice of reason whispered quietly from my soul.

“You can’t pay it back, but you can pay it forward.”

Immediately I decided, whenever it was in my control, I would commit my life to paying her generosity forward whenever I got the chance.

Shortly after, the earthquake in Haiti occurred. My oldest daughter felt burdened to help. In those days, we didn’t have the means to make a difference in Haiti, but it opened my eyes to need in my community.

Later in the week, we signed up to prepare meals at the homeless shelter.  I couldn’t give financially, but I could give my time. I could give encouragement.  And I could prepare a hot meal.

In return I learned giving is about so much more than money.  It’s about taking inventory of my time, talent and energy and saying, “How can I use these resources to benefit another?”

Time progressed and we were able to begin giving financially in addition to our time, yet found and continue to find our time and efforts given are so much more valuable in the overall picture than the sum written on any check.

Because our experience brings encouragement and valuable skills. Our willingness to help relieves the burden from those carrying loads too large for their frame.

As for me, I am learning to live my life with an open hand. Generosity reduces my need for overpowering control. It prepares me to trust God more than my resources.  Generosity teaches me to value community over commodity.

Depending on my season in life, I may or may not have much to give.  But God can use my little and multiply it into something great.  I just have to trust him with it.  I have to be willing to let go.

I’m not always willing to let go.

Yet when my heart is willing, God is too.  He will take my small yes to stretch and condition me.

And in the process, I remove myself from the center of my world and place God in his rightful place.

 

 

If you’re in, be all in

Can I just be utterly transparent?

This year has been tough for me.

Personally

Professionally

Prayerfully

AND, it would be a lie if I said I’ve conducted myself as mature Christian woman.  Since it’s just us, I feel safe in telling you that I cringe every time I hear the “Glow in the dark” song by Jason Gray.  You know, this one:

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jb1TTADzf9Y

Did it have to go viral now?

It’s like God’s saying, “Suck it up buttercup. It’s time for your game face.”

Game face.

  Ugh.

I’ll show you my game face.

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Here’s the thing.  The emotions I have experienced in this season are like navigating a fun house.  The likeness is distorted.  Shimmers of truth gnarled with fiction. I concentrate on the anamorphic images hoping something straightforward will emerge.

I come up empty every time.

So instead, I look for escape.  I don’t like it here.  Just show me the exit and I will be on my way, thank you very much.

But in this place where nothing makes sense, an exit does not appear.

In its place, a challenge.

Can you be all in?

Can you stop, for just a moment, to look for the reason you’re here?

Can you see the mission behind the madness?

Here’s what I know.

God wants his people all in.  All the time.  No exceptions to the rule.

Even when it doesn’t make sense.

Even when you feel alone.

Even when you’re sure he’s forgotten.

I, on the other hand, don’t always want to be all in.  It’s got to be my idea.

Here’s the thing about being all in.  The escape hatch closes. My focus shifts. I lay aside my two companions, compromise and conflict. I fix my eyes on God and step even when the path is chaotic and jumbled. I stop relying on emotions and instead, rely on the wisdom and discernment deeply rooted within me. The voice of doubt becomes silenced.  Courage and confidence squelch fear.

And when I feel I am about to quit, I am reminded that strength is best built in moments of impossibility.

In this moment of honesty, I can affirmatively say God will change me even when I can’t change my attitude. God can overcome my emotions and he can certainly take charge of the circumstance.

I just need to choose to stay all in, even when all out would feel much more comfortable.

Heaven only knows where this season of growth will take me.  All I can say is, “God, I’m all in.”

Finding grace in the gaps

For 358 days of the year, I am a mostly responsible adult.  Then, day 359 sweeps in to hinder my momentum.

I wake up feeling a pit of anxiety in my tummy.  “Stay in bed”, it says.  “Nothing good is coming of this day.”

I get up anyway.

The kids, however.  Not so much.  They are still in summer break mode.  But band camp starts today. My teenager is in Mexico.  The youngest is spending her day with Grandma.  I have to leave town by eight.

But they sleep anyway.

And so goes the pace of my week.  I pull into work, send a poorly timed text to hubby which results in my son being late to his first day of band camp.  (They finally got up). My new regional made an appearance at work.  (Thank God I did my hair today). Yet I was unprepared for the visit.  Our ability to communicate is  hindered by the nerves of new relationship.  Instead of appearing competent and capable, I did my best impersonation of Ellie Mae from the cornfields.

Tuesday was spent in fast paced preparation for my half day Wednesday.  You know, school registration.

This mommy of the year registered her 2nd grader back into 1st. Might be why they couldn’t find her paperwork from last year. Please don’t judge. This is my reality.

Thursday closes the week with a big finish.  My well kept sales program is completely wiped clean from all past, present and future activities.

What am I doing today?  Only cyberspace knows.

So I gave up in despair, questioning the value of all my hard work in this world.

Ecc. 2:20

Have you had this kind of week before?

Day 359 reminds me I need grace to fill my gaps.  I can’t control my world on my own.  It’s almost as if God allows everything to fall apart as a reminder that I need him to be the glue to hold everything together.

Daily, I need to ask for an eagerness for him instead of ________(money, recognition, pride, ego).  Depart from the mediocre and seek life through his word.  Seek assurance in his promise made to those who fear him.

My worth is not measured by the worst of my days.  Restoration only occurs when I return to my rescuer.  Jesus fills my gaps with grace and assures my footing for the rocky road ahead. He is my source of wisdom and strength when everything else seems to fail.

Lord, perfect your power in my weakness.

Position my eyes upon your face.

Point my heart to your truth.

Permit your promises to manifest in my life.

Redeem even the most rotten of my days.

Amen.

 

If I must take a side, I choose Jesus.

I’m watching the coverage unfold with my 12 year old son.  His face bears the same disappointment I am feeling in my heart.

It seems like the battle has officially been lost.  One that I have never really understood in the first place.  We rally on the streets and preach from the pulpits.

With every word and action, the division in this issue has left a gap impossible to bridge. More than anything, I want my son to stand for whom he believes.  However, I want him to do so from a place of dignity and love as opposed to disrespect and judgment.

Because I know behind sin stands a story of brokenness.

And in brokenness, hope can take root and grow.

After posting John 3:16 to my facebook wall, I avoid social media.  The battle still looms.  The words from both sides are strong.  Above all else, I will take a stand.

But to what cost? Who is left to pay the price?

For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son that whoever should believe in him would not perish but have eternal life.

John 3:16

In this time of confusion, I still choose Jesus of Nazareth.  Why?

Because I am a sinner.  No one is without sin.  Not one, the bible says. The only person I can change is me.  No matter what I say on facebook.  No matter what I post on this blog, I can only change me.

I believe God is still in the business of healing.  Who paid the price?  His son, Jesus, who was sent to die for my sin before I ever had chance to walk this earth.  No prerequisites.  Merely a choice to believe that I can’t pay the price for sin on my own.

I can’t hold a nonbeliever to the same standards I follow.  Nor can I influence their choices without relationship. Love covers a multitude of sin.

When I lovingly confront one who I build relationship with, they see my heart in place of my hypocrisy.

I know that judgement from the church can bring more pain than promise.

No matter how big the divide, Jesus is bigger.  He came to fill the divide.  He came to bridge the gaps.  Even when it feels like I’m losing the battle, Christ has promised victory in the war.

“I urge ,then, first of all that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people- for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in godliness and holiness.

1 Timothy 2: 1-2

Service requires an attitude of ownership

I was honored.

Serve Weekend is a huge collaborative outreach effort in our community every year.  Five churches and hundreds of local volunteers tackle projects throughout our town as a means to reach the lost with the grace filled message of Christ.

David & I were asked to lead a picnic at a local high rise.  We said, “You bet”, thinking this would be no big deal.  I can coordinate our volunteer groups, he can grill and we both know our way around the grocery store.  Bring it on.

Then we were given the budget.

Eep.

Let’s just say no shoestrings were harmed in the creation of the budget.  Just the aglets.  Now, instead of calling volunteers with information on when and where to show up, I was also going to have to ask for them to help provide a portion of the meal for over 100 people.

Is it hot in here?

Our life group immediately jumped on board in helping us to create a menu and activity plan as well as being the first to sign up to bring food items.

Aren’t you thankful for those people?

They always remind me that kingdom service isn’t meant to be a solitary effort.

I woke up the next morning still feeling a bit anxious about the whole thing. Deep down, I know God will provide us with exactly what we need but I am the type of girl that likes organization and order.  Not faith with the potential of fallout.

Before starting calls to the rest of the volunteer team, I went to Gods word and found an incredible group of ladies in Luke 8: 1-3.  Their story goes like this:

Soon afterward Jesus began a tour of the nearby towns and villages, preaching and announcing the Good News about the Kingdom of God. He took his twelve disciples with him, along with some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases. Among them were Mary Magdalene, from whom he had cast out seven demons;  Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod’s business manager; Susanna; and many others who were contributing from their own resources to support Jesus and his disciples.
 In one short minute, these ladies taught me more about the biblical concept of service than a month of sermons.
Their service was driven by what Jesus had done for them, not what they could do for him.  They brought their testimony on tour with Jesus and his disciples.  Living, breathing examples of the power of God at work in their lives.  Driven by demons in their past only to be released to walk in freedom with their savior.  Can you hear their testimony?  Can you see the crowds captivated by their stories?
These women contributed their own resources to help support Jesus and his disciples.  They were invested.  They had skin in the game. Investment equals ownership.  This was no longer just a following this guy called Jesus thing.  They held a piece of ownership in God’s kingdom. They gave what they had to further the cause of Christ to those who desperately needed his message hope.
And now, I’m not so anxious about these calls I need to make.  I’m excited to partner with God in an event that can reach many with his name.  As I talk with each person who has signed up, they each have a story about why they chose this project.
My mother lived there for years.
I live there now and just want to reach people for Jesus.
How can I help? Is there anything more that you need?
Service, with a little skin in the game, brings a sense of ownership to God’s kingdom plan.  It changes the way we think.  It changes the way we talk.  It generates excitement.  This is no longer a picnic sponsored by my church.  This picnic is now a collaboration between Christ’s church and his people saying, “Yes God.  Use me and all I have to further your name in my community.”
Can you pray for us in the week to come?  Serve will happen this Saturday, June 27th.  It’s God’s chance to shine through his people.  We pray for his provision and lots of opportunity to share his message of hope and grace to those who may need to hear it and claim it for their own lives.

I gave you my old ugly heart. You returned it restored and new.

“Lord, it’s a mess.  You can’t possibly want it.”

I am standing in a crowded auditorium.  A prevailing churches conference.  A room full of ministry leaders.  Movers and shakers for the kingdom.

Do you ever just feel like you don’t quite belong?

Chris Tomlin is leading worship.  I mean, how cool is that?

The last two days, we have been poured into by names like Bill Hybels and David Ortberg.  I’m singing and connecting with God in an experience that is a bit out of my ordinary world.  I am compelled to lift my hands in worship.  And then, it happens.

I can feel the tangible touch of God on my hands.  He is silently telling me, “Return to me.”

You see, God knows that my outsides look pretty good, but my insides are another story all together.  I haven’t let him in yet.  I have been volunteering in kids ministry and learning things about his word that I have never heard while washing down tables and leading kids to their assigned classrooms.  But I haven’t let his word resonate yet.  I know he means it for them.  I just can’t believe it for me.

I want kingdom opportunities and when I see another succeeding, I don’t see that they are succeeding for God.  I just see that they are farther ahead in the race and I am bitten by a little green bug of jealousy. I long to be the center of attention.  There is an emptiness inside of me that demands it.  I just want my chance to prove that I, too, am worthwhile.

But in this moment, God is not asking me to prove anything.

He is just asking me to return to him.

So I did.

In those following weeks, I recommitted my life to God.  In my mind, I had always been a believer.  I was baptized as a baby.  I knew he was there.  But, I made the choice to be water baptized as an adult, not because I believe it will take me into the gates of heaven, but instead, to show outwardly what was happening to me inwardly. God was washing away the old and ugly to reveal something new & beautiful.

I immersed myself in his word daily.

I learned to pray in alignment with God’s will.  Not about my wish and want list, but about his purpose and balance for who he created me to be.

I connected to others through small group bible study.

One day, I was sitting in church observing a woman I greatly admired.  Her ministry was in the spotlight.  A strange, unfamiliar feeling came over me.  It was joy!  I was genuinely happy for the success she was bringing to the kingdom as a result of her work and effort.

I’ll admit that I was surprised by this new emotion.

I basked in it for a moment.  It was like trying on a pair of jeans that fit just right.  No way I was leaving it behind.  This is what a clean heart feels like.

To be totally honest with you, I’m still under construction.  This transformation of my heart will never be perfect this side of heaven.  I will always need to be wary of traps like comparison and inadequacy. But now I know how to fight back. I know how to keep my feet from slipping into bondage and brokenness.

Immerse myself, daily, in God’s word.

Pray often.

Stay connected to other believers for encouragement and motivation.

Do the work he has given me.  Own my share of the kingdom plan.

Through it all, lean into him and trust that he is hard at work in my heart and my life.

Know that each day is filled with new mercy.  I am, after all, human.

 

“Create in me a clean heart, O God.  Renew a right spirit within me.”