Where’s the passion I used to have? The determination to run with strength? The boldness?
I hear people think-out-loud along these lines. They wonder how their motivation disappeared, or why they procrastinate or feel so stuck. They can’t seem to rev their wheels anymore. They get stuck in the mud.
I relate. I’ve tried to get started on certain projects and then they’ve just — fallen through. Not all the issues are me, but still — the outcome feels embarrassing.
Ever been there? Maybe you have a big dream but you haven’t followed through. You have hopes for a relationship. You want to stop a bad habit. Or, go a new way…but you just can’t seem to succeed. There seems to be a stopper right ahead of you.
This morning, this verse spoke to me in a powerful way:
“So we must let go of every wound that has pierced us and the sin we so easily fall into. Then we will be able to run life’s marathon race with passion and determination, for the path has been already marked out before us…” (Heb 12: 1-2)
I must let go — to go. It is only by letting go of old wounds and sin that I can run ahead. For, no one can run effectively ahead while looking back. To run looking behind you is to run into things. To bang yourself up. Reconsidering and rehashing (aka. looking back) prohibits one from seeing the good thing God has ahead.
I realize I must (REALLY) let go of what lays behind me. Only then, can I “run life’s race with passion and determination.” Only then can I easily go down God’s path already “marked out” before (me).
God offers me a new beginning today. He gives you one too! Wonder is knowing that Jesus presents us with an endless amount of new beginnings. Today you start over. Repent if you need to… Then, you trust that the Author and Perfector of faith, Jesus Christ, is doing His best work. Believe that the Shepherd of all shepherds is protecting you from what happened in days of old. Fully rely on The Light of the World to illuminate your world in an exciting and joy-filled way.
When we look ahead at the beauty of Him, we won’t as much want to look back. Instead, I believe, we’ll move with fervor, passion, and excitement, like never before. We’ll be able to perceive the light of His goodness ahead. We will focus on Jesus, and with Him, we’ll go again.
Prayer: God, give us the grace to let go of what lays behind. We don’t want to look back anymore and miss what is ahead. Come and help us to look to Jesus, constantly. Give us undivided attention and renewed fervor. We love you. We want to live all-out for you. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Just a while ago, I had a speaking event at a church. I was so amazed at how God seemed to be working in the women’s hearts. I felt excited. I felt sure life-change was happening — for God was at work. But, after the event was done, after I was off-stage I turned to the woman’s pastor and asked, “What do you think? Do you think I did a good job?”
Immediately, after the words came out of my mouth, the weight of conviction hit me.
Did God do the work, or did I? What does it matter — her thoughts, if I did — God’s work? And, what I am performing for — man’s approval or do I serve from the position of already-being approved?
Jesus said, “Your approval or disapproval means nothing to me for I know you do not have God’s love within you.” (Jo. 5:41 NLT)
Another translation says, “I do not accept glory from human beings…” (NIV)
If Jesus did not accept or need “glory from human beings”, then why do I?
Jesus said 1 chapter earlier, “My nourishment comes from doing the will of God…” (Jo. 4:34)
Where does my nourishment come from? What about yours?
Does it come from — the faces people make? The way you are acknowledged? How you are perceived? What people say about you to others? The opportunities given to you by man? Pay? The praise you get? The criticism that comes your way?
True freedom is unhinged by man’s response, reaction or rewards. It does all for Jesus, thanks to Jesus and trusts Jesus’ reward.
Remarkably, Jesus called out the Pharisees and religious types repeatedly for their loss of what mattered most. While they were dead set in following the law to the T, Jesus was all about letting love out abundantly.
The schism between these two in Jesus’ time often seemed great. It still is, in many ways.
It is not that the law is bad; it is not. It is surely good. However, when the letter of the law triumphs over love in a way that restricts the heart of God, this creates problems.
My heart here at Purposeful Faith is to feed you the heart of God day-in and day-out. Yet, to do it five days a week, I am coming to realize, feels more like abiding by a rule of daily law than impromptu love.
I think back to the stories throughout the bible. So many times, religious, pious or scholarly folk missed Jesus’ heart. He’d reply to them with wisdom, instruction or the way to go and they’d either rebuke him, walk away from Him or miss the point entirely.
But one time, the tax collectors responded differently — like this, “”Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?””
I have asked God what to do about my love for each of you. “Teacher, what should I do so I love my readers and you, well?”
A couple things came to me: pray bigger, love better, encourage more and open the doors to new writers.
You can expect all this in the New Year. You can also expect less weekly blog posts (3-4 times a week), with more exposure to me via video prayers and encouragement on social media.
What would you like to see from me? What topics would you like me to cover? How would you like to connect? What sort of video encouragement would you like to receive? Let me know.
And, beyond this… what if you were to ask Jesus this New Year, “Teacher, what should I do so I love those around me well?” You might be astonished what he says.
This thing, this terrible thing that I have struggled with for years, is something I cannot seem to shake.
So what is a girl to do?
I did what any good church-going gal would do. I signed up for every single bible study, every retreat, and any and every special session. All the things, I believed would help me finally understand why I don’t do what I like, but instead, do what I hate.
Among my friends and acquaintances, I was known for my devotion to the study. The study of that which they believed was an adoration for my God, but in reality was a desperate attempt to finally break free.
Bible Study Sister.
A Proverbs-31 woman.
I did all the things. The things that were suggested, the things I believed were essential to 1. Freedom. 2. Worthiness.
Yes, I believed I must earn my salvation, and when I finally achieved this worthiness, maybe then I would be able to overcome this thing. The thing, the thing that I cannot seem to get over, that I cannot leave behind.
Perfection evades me. As much as I love order and perfection, I love this … this monster I call my sin.
What would I do with my time, with my mind, if not for the sin I tend to?
So back I went to my studies, with my highlighters, fancy pens and markers. The bible bag I carry with all my tools has a fancy cross embroidered on the front. It is decorated with pins asking “what would Jesus do?” But as much as I study, as much as having memorized, I swear.. I do not know.
I did not know what Jesus would do.
And I could not figure out how to be just like Him.
Truth be told, no matter how much I dedicated to the study of my sin, the sin was all I knew. And then a friend brought this to my attention.
I have only been blogging for a couple of years. In those years I have interacted with many amazing women. I have found that among the things we do not have in common, there is almost always one thing we do have in common.
We are the walking wounded.
I have yet to meet a woman or receive an email from someone who says, “I have no battle wounds, I have not a single emotional scar. I have never been let down, lead astray, hurt, disappointed, cheated, lied to, manipulated or violated.”
In this life, these things happen. These bad things happen. They sneak up on us, and they change us, sometimes – they define us. This is tragic but in my case, and what I am now learning, in the case of so many women, these incidents also defined Jesus.
Well, yeah. Think about it, do you have an incident where you were hurt or hurting that a human being, someone you loved or trusted said or did something that you have now negatively associated with Jesus?
At my brother-in-law’s funeral, an older parishioner came up to me and said, “God must be trying to show you something. Don’t let this lesson go to waste.” I believed this lie. I believed that God was up on high killing, cutting innocent men to ribbons to teach me… the worst person on the planet, who ate too much cheese, a harsh lesson.
But I believed this. I believed in an irrational wrath. I believed His fury could never be quenched. I was certain there was no telling who would be next. I was exhausted, paralyzed and petrified. As I typed words of His goodness and truths of His mercy, love, and unending favor His true character began to peep through my darkness. I began to question what I knew about Him.
And then I began to grieve what I had come believe about Him.
One Thursday afternoon, I fell into His arms in the most genuine of submissions. I curled up in His lap and recited scripture after scripture about His goodness.
If He is for me who can be against me?
If nothing can separate me from His love, why do I keep a list of things I believe have alienated me from Him?
If Jesus died, rose again, and then sat down… why do I think I must work to finish anything?
If Jesus came to give me life and peace and joy in abundance, why am I so stressed and sad?
The litany went on and on and when it was finished I was free. Free from the terror of believing I was doomed, that my children were doomed… that the other shoe was about to drop because I messed up my Weight Watchers points. The lists of things I believed I did wrong could never catch up with the meager list of things I did right. The things I did right? How could ever measure if they were enough?
In the midst of the revelation, I was writing my first book, which you can now find by following the link below. As excited as I am to share it here, on Kelly’s page, who was with me through every step of the journey, it is a very vulnerable time. I have cried buckets, rejoiced, and cried some more. Still, Jesus has been so real to me in these months, that is my entire focus. Although He doesn’t need me, I need to voice how wrong I was about Him. And I know this, He does want me. He craved me unto His death. Not to terrorize me, but to commune with me. He enjoys my company, I am His girl. He waits patiently for you as well, the unearthing of His true identity is one I wouldn’t have missed. He is indeed Bread and Life.
Jami Amerine is a wife, and mother to anywhere from 6-8 children. Jami and her husband Justin are active foster parents and advocates for foster care and adoption. Jami’s Sacred Ground Sticky Floors is fun, inspirational, and filled with utter lunacy with a dash of hope. Jami holds a degree in Family and Consumer Sciences (yes Home Ec.) and can cook you just about anything, but don’t ask her to sew. She also holds a Masters Degree in Education, Counseling, and Human Development. Her blog includes topics on marriage, children, babies, toddlers, learning disabilities, tweens, teens, college kids, adoption, foster care, Jesus, homeschooling, unschooling, dieting, not dieting, dieting again, chronic illness, stupid people, food allergies, and all things real life. You can find her blog at Sacred Ground Sticky Floors, follow her on Facebook or Twitter.
I sat in a body-piercing studio with the owner gazing at a tattoo displayed on the nave of my back. It was a gnome, sitting on a mushroom and playing a fife. Everything about it screamed pot-smoker, hippy and apparently, pagan.
And to think I got it because I thought it looked cool. To me it said, “Outsider,” a label I gave myself during my younger years.
The man’s question caught me off guard. I was twenty-one at the time and wasn’t sure who I was, let alone what I believed.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. The artist seemed as surprised by my answer as I was. Immediately, I felt ashamed.
Who was this person, anyway?
I spent the next eight years trying to figure out the answer to that question. Eventually, I realized all of the places I ran to seek my identity were fickle and fading.
It wasn’t until I started with the One who gave me my eternal name that I would know my true self.
These days, my tattoo is usually hidden. But the other day, while on family vacation, I was changing into my swimsuit and my five-year-old saw it.
“Mama, what’s that on your back?”
I told him what the picture was and explained how a tattoo is like a permanent picture on your skin. Then, my mind went back. Back to the person I was. Back to the mistakes I made and the years I spent wasting my life. Things much bigger than a silly tattoo that shape the person I am today.
For a little while, I let the voice of condemnation darken the light in my soul.
Scenes of things I wish I’d never seen replayed in my mind. Faces of people who left this life for the next one burned in my memory and left my heart heavy.
Perhaps you’ve been there? You’re walking in the new life Jesus freely gave you, and then all of a sudden you’re hit with a blatant reminder of the mess you used to be? That, despite your best efforts, some days you still are?
In those dark moments when I’m not sure I can escape my past, God often gives me a reminder. This time was no different.
We arrived at the pool and found it closed because of an incoming storm. After playing for a while in the arcade next door, we made our way back to the campsite. As we made dinner, a beautiful site caught my eye.
A spectacular sunset over the river.
The sun was big and radiant, dipping to the horizon in a circular blanket of clouds. I hurriedly got my camera and ran down to the beach.
I must of snapped a dozen pictures, but when I flipped through them in my viewfinder I was disappointed. This huge ball of light and fire looked tiny and dim. I couldn’t capture its draw. It was uncontainable.
As I sat in our camper later that evening, I felt that gentle whisper in my spirit.
“Don’t try to put limits on my grace, Abby. It’s more limitless than the sun.”
And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.
John 1:16 ESV
I was putting God in a box again, thinking I could somehow run outside his grace. But it doesn’t just cover me. It drenches me.
We can’t put finite limitations on the grace of an infinite God.
And the moment we stop trying to put God in a box, we find we don’t want Him there. We find freedom. We find joy and rest.
So today, if your past is trying to haunt you, take a lesson from my tattoo. Remember it shapes you, but it doesn’t define you.
God can take the shattered pieces of your life and turn them into something far more spectacular than a sunset. He does it each and every day. Sometimes we just need a reminder of who he is.
Sometimes we have to take him out of the box and come to the altar.
Abby McDonald is the mom of three, a wife and writer whose hope is show readers their identity is found in Christ alone, not the noise of the world. When she’s not chasing their two boys or cuddling their newest sweet girl, you can find her drinking copious amounts of coffee while writing about her adventures on her blog. Abby would love to connect with you on her blog and her growing Facebook community.
We had been going over the same set of details for days.
Each sit-down, hour-long discussion felt like we were walking around in two separate circles.
I could see how he was wrong, but he couldn’t.
He could see how I was wrong, but I couldn’t.
Add in miscommunications, assumptions, and misunderstandings, and there you have our reasons for walking in lonely circles of our own making.
I wouldn’t say we were angry with each other, but we both felt misunderstood. We were waiting for the other person to see our own point of view.
It took a few days before the light turned on and we joined hands and walked together again. In the light, I read through my journal and saw some things I hadn’t realized before. I saw my own sin and the resulting sadness.
I had been deceived.
We can be so deceived by sin, and fail to see it. Or admit it. Or turn from it. Sometimes, we don’t really want to see where we are wrong. It would feel better if only they were wrong.
When were you last deceived by sin?
Every one of us chooses to sin at times, and others, we fall into sin. We are works in process. Sometimes, we fall and refuse to get back up for a while. Or we make a huge mess and track it everywhere, and then find remnants in hidden corners long after we’ve come clean.
Sin sticks like mud sometimes. And it’s messy. It can be lonely and make us feel trapped.
I pray with the psalmist, Lord, keep your servant from willful sins; may they not rule over me. (Psalm 19:13) And I remember His unending love.
He freed us from our sins, so they will not rule over us.
We are being transformed, and He’s not finished with us yet.
So Child of God, you may fall into sin, but you are not going to dwell there.
Jesus changed everything when He made a Way for us to be near God. He paid the penalty for all of our sin–and set us free from our slavery to sin. When we first trusted in Him, He planted love deep in our hearts, for Him and others. His new law of love.
“I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts.
I will be their God, and they will be my people.” Hebrews 8:10b
You see, the old covenant failed because of the people’s unfaithfulness. But the new covenant cannot fail. The new covenant is based on what God did and does and will do.
The Lord who frees captives will continue to rescue us–every time we call to Him–out of any pit where we’ve fallen.
He is our God, and we are His people.
So we may fall, but we will not stay down.
Angela Parlin is a wife and mom to 3 rowdy boys and 1 sweet girl. In addition to spending time with friends and family, she loves to read and write, spend days at the beach, watch romantic comedies, and organize closets. But most of all, she loves Jesus and writes to call attention to the beauty of life in Christ, even when that life collaborates with chaos. Join her at www.angelaparlin.com, So Much Beauty In All This Chaos.
I am afraid of many things; flying, heights, spiders, the demise of one of my loved ones, egg salad, and weight gain, just to name a few.
Within the last year, I have added a new fear to my list… failure.
In the midst of this new terror, I made a friend. At first, she wasn’t a friend, although she didn’t know, I was intimidated by her. I saw her message as a threat to my message. Which was, altogether inaccurate.
As our relationship progressed, she invited me to become a regular contributor here, on her website. Her book, Fear Fighting launched this week. In perfect harmony with my new fear of failure, her book has been salve to my wound.
A few nights after her book was featured on the Today Show by Kathie Lee Gifford, I climbed into bed to read more of Kelly’s beautiful paperback. After a couple chapters, I rolled over to go to sleep and I went to work on my shortcomings, my inabilities, and disabilities. I fell asleep afraid my book would fail. I began to compare the beauty of Kelly’s manuscript with the folly of mine.
I distinctly remember praying, “God, I am afraid I can’t do this…”
And I dreamed.
It was a vivid dream. I dreamed I was watching Kelly speak and white butterflies flew about every time she spoke of the Jesus she adores. In my sleep, I dreamt that I told my husband, “When Kelly speaks of Jesus white butterflies appear.” My husband brushed me off as silly. In this reverie, I went on to dream that I was meeting Kelly at my alma mater by a fountain. My husband came with me and when Kelly and I met and hugged white butterflies exploded in the evening sky and we laughed and danced. My husband knelt and began to pray for us.
I sat upright in the bed. The dream still fresh in my mind, I reached for my iPhone to check the time. I had only been asleep a few hours. Shaken by the mystery, I decided to flip through my phone and consider. I opened my Facebook, the first thing in my feed was a picture my friend, fellow author Rachelle DeNecochea had posted. It was the image of a painting Rachelle’s husband gave her for Christmas.
The painting, by artist Melissa Paddock, was of two girls dancing in the moonlight with white butterflies in the sky.
I was undone.
Here is the thing. I am not in any way insinuating Kelly and I are some grand prophetesses. What I am implying is, my God knows me so well.
I am more than suggesting, He met me where I was in my fears. The dream? I would have easily brushed it aside as my tiny brain having a playdate of non-sense. But I fully believe God didn’t intend for me to dismiss it.
My fears of failure are not from Him or of Him.
He has blessed me with opportunities, outside of anything I could have wished or hoped for – opportunities to speak about how magnificent He is.
You can call it a coincidence.
My husband is certain I saw the painting before I fell asleep. I won’t argue with him, my phone was dead when I plugged it in and picked up Kelly’s book. I believe that God wanted to encourage me. I am confident the dream and the painting were meant to minister to me. I have faith that Jesus knows me, and is available to ease my terrors and worries with signs and wonders. As Kelly says, “Faith is the thing that makes little warriors do big things.”
Certainly, He is all that is right with me. The fear doesn’t come from Him, only the comfort does. And I need not worry about my abilities, as I read Kelly’s words the next day I was further convinced, “It’s not about ‘my’ abilities that make me able but God’s capabilities, that make me more than able.”
I am encouraged like never before.
Truly, as many the years, I have spent in fear, I fully intend on spending the next years brave.
I will watch more closely and with a new found eagerness for Him to reveal things to me, and my faith will allow me to believe. He is the master of words, maestros of symphony, and a virtuoso of every canvas and coloring page.
I choose to believe He will move in every aspect of my life. When I am weak, He is strong. When I am strong, He is my strength.
I encourage you to grab a copy of Kelly’s book and “let the creator re-sketch your scenery of fear into faith…”
The season of bravery is upon us, the time of freedom is at hand. The tools for breaking down your bondage are available.
Dear Captives, be set free.
“I will not be shaken for God is right beside me.” Acts 2:25
Jami Amerine is a wife, and mother to anywhere from 6-8 children. Jami and her husband Justin are active foster parents and advocates for foster care and adoption. Jami’s Sacred Ground Sticky Floors is fun, inspirational, and filled with utter lunacy with a dash of hope. Jami holds a degree in Family and Consumer Sciences (yes Home Ec.) and can cook you just about anything, but don’t ask her to sew. She also holds a Masters Degree in Education, Counseling, and Human Development. Her blog includes topics on marriage, children, babies, toddlers, learning disabilities, tweens, teens, college kids, adoption, foster care, Jesus, homeschooling, unschooling, dieting, not dieting, dieting again, chronic illness, stupid people, food allergies, and all things real life. You can find her blog at Sacred Ground Sticky Floors, follow her onFacebook or Twitter.
I wonder how many seconds I’ve held my breath? Like when I lost my mom. 1, 2, 3. Or when I stared at another blue line on another pregnancy test. 1, 2, 3, 4. How about the many times my children have ran into the sharp corners of life. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,…
I don’t get those moments back.
So, I need to breathe in brave. It helps to remember David fighting the giant.
Because I want to be able to fight like…a boy? Really, it still amazes me. How did a boy have the faith to step forward to fight a giant of a man? The name alone intimidates—Goliath the giant of Gath. I mean, David heard what the people were saying. His father, Jesse, and three brothers went to fight the Philistines while David ran errands and tended to their heard of sheep. But this small story of giant fighting is huge. For me. And no doubt for the girls in my fifth grade Sunday school class.
Because we want to know God will help us battle big in life. Just like David, we’re afraid sometimes. We also want to test and see if God’s love makes us brave. Does it?
Taking a breath of fresh air.
I’ll admit, when I am tired or feel unable—I forget about David. Really. All I can do is watch the worry-wrinkle between my brows deepen. But last month, while hearing this fear-fighting story again through the voices of my fifth grade Sunday school class—I took in a breath of fresh air.
In fact, we were all shocked to discover that David had no cheerleaders. Nope. Not even one. No one expected David to be brave. Not his family. Not his friends. Not his enemy. Because afraid was contagious and had already traveled throughout the valley. It loomed over the battle camp like smoggy smoke. A gasp, a quiet sigh, and a defeated shrug accomplished what words didn’t have to. In fact, Jesse kept David busy minding his own worry that his other sons were okay.
“And Jesse said to David his son, “Take for your brothers an ephah of this parched grain, and these ten loaves, and carry them quickly to the camp of your brothers. Also take these ten cheeses to the commander of their thousand. See if your brothers are well, and bring back some token from them.” (1Samuel 17: 17-18 ESV).
Yes. David took the provisions as his father had commanded. But while he was there at the camp speaking with his brothers, David heard something. He heard Goliath making threats, breathing anger like fire, and beating his bronze chest with demands to fight just one. Then 1Samuel 17: 23 says, “And David heard him.”
David heard the raging voice of Goliath, but he also heard the Sovereign whisper of God.
Besides, he wasn’t about to breathe in the same air as everyone else. While they were keeping David busy running ten cheeses to the commander, David was puzzled and questioned the fear and concerns of others. Why did he wonder?
Because David knew. He knew God protected. He knew God slew evil. He knew God rescued the lost. He knew God helped him pry open the jaw of the lion that tried to eat his sheep. He knew God.
We want to know God in this way. But we are satisfied with delivering cheese.
Why? Because we listen to the sound of our own heart beating. We allow our faith to match our circumstance. We pay closer attention to our worry-wrinkles and don’t see ourselves as the true reflective image of God.
How do we fight like a boy? Like David. We need to take time each day to know God. Through prayer and His Word we can know without a doubt God will help us. He will protect us. He will slay the enemy for us. He will rescue our lost hope, lost patience, lost courage, lost joy, and our lost breath. God’s love makes us brave.
“As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him. Reaching into his bag and taking out a stone, he slung it and struck the Philistine on the forehead. The stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground.
So David triumphed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone…” (1 Samuel 17:48-50) ESV.
Whatever the battle today. Breathe brave, my friend. Breathe brave.
Beth Duewel is a wife and mom of three who is only able to breathe-brave through the perfect love of Christ. Beth would love to connect and pray with you on her blog: Fix-Her-Upper.com. Look for her book in spring of 2017, Fix-Her-Upper: Hope and Laughter Through a God Renovated Life.
I sang and danced and swirled and twirled. I had no care in the world. I paid no attention to my foot caught on the hem underfoot or my strap halfway down my young arm. None of that mattered. What mattered was that I felt alive, beautiful and one with creation.
What happened to that little girl?
The one who gave no care to her off-pitch high notes? The one who heard not catcalls of criticism, but simply her voice of freedom? The one who gave no merit to outside perceptions, but just God’s wild affirmations? Somewhere along the line, she got buried.
It’s always easy to blame others, “They broke me.”
They broke me with pointed words, “What’s wrong with you, Kelly? Wake up, you self-absorbed one.” They injured me in ways that people don’t talk about over coffee. They pointed out my big nose, loud voice and my bouffant hair. They made it clear I was destined to be a loser.
In school, I remember things. We all had a papier-mâché project. You put a little something in your balloon, you’d shove in a little figure of sorts, then blow up the balloon. After that, you’d add doused paper on top – lots of doused paper. You cover that balloon right up, layer upon layer. The balloon got hard.
I am like that balloon – 3-inches covered by guilt and shame. You too?
“People stole care-free from me.” I yell to God.
Do not conform to the pattern of this world,
but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Ro. 12:2
God speaks to me,
“Kelly, you can relive the past in your mind
or you can renew your spirit with my mind, the mind of Christ?
Half of me is so accustomed to assigning other people blame for my pain. It’s hard to turn away from a comfortable seat well worn. But, the other half of me realizes if I want to be new, if I want to get up and go, I’ve got to turn another direction. I want to believe it is well with my soul.
I close my eyes. Can I find her? The liberated, dancing singer?
I know she’s under there, under the fortified covering of papier-mâché, somewhere…
God calls me friend.
God names me, daughter.
I am his love.
The very pursuit of his greatest affections. A layer of paperweight peels off me…
He sees me, my beauty.
He writes my name on his hand.
He cuddles me in feathers.
He’s my bodyguard, ever-protector, forevermore. The balloon is seen again…
He leads me.
He unveils his master plan for me.
He tends to my soul.
He teaches and transforms,
molds and makes me,
helps me. The balloon pops…Bang!
And that little figure? The one tucked deep away, inside the covered balloon? It surfaces. I finally see it. Except there’s one thing I notice, that strikes me – funny. The figure looks nothing like me. It looks like Jesus.
As I strip off the layers that cover me, I see – Jesus, the very power of God, living in me.
I find who I am, through the great I AM. I release my potential through his power. I reignite my passion as I draw from his paternal love.
I never needed people to approve me, but Christ to move in me.
But because of his great love for us, God,
who is rich in mercy,made us alive with Christ
even when we were dead in transgressions…(Eph. 2:4-5)
God brings me back to the heart of who I was created to be. What love, I loved, he loves. I see this when I realize I am alive with Christ.
When I grab his hand and let him take the lead, he leads me to still waters, to new hope and to a new dance that sings his glory.
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