I crave being made new.
I have a great desire to be a Size 6 and for firm thighs and flat tummy. However, why do I equate my physical shape with the depths of my salvation?
They are hardly the same thing.
Somewhere in the twists and turns of thought and belief, I have convinced myself my mind is lacking. I further the insanity by affirming said ideas when I look in the mirror. What is this malady of lies I foster and feed? When did I first believe that my appearance formulated my spirit? If tomorrow I were to meet with an accident and lost a limb would I believe in Jesus any less?
By no means.
Would a handicap define me as lacking in my belief that Jesus died so that I might walk in the freedom of my salvation?
If this were true, why the Cross…. Continue reading and LINK UP!