If God can take what is crooked, broken, and messy and still draw straight lines toward a greater good, then who am I to resist this shaping?
If Jesus has taken up residence in my heart, and has come to stay, then the work of transformation is already underway. Even in my fears, insecurities, and regretful missteps, He is renovating, remaking, reshaping me into a truer masterpiece. Closer to my best version.
So it makes sense that I feel this discomfort, that the pain comes and goes like waves. I am no different from the ones I read about in Scripture, each of their stories holding up a mirror, each life in some way reminding me of my own.
And with that, here I am, in this moment, choosing to praise first. To continue yielding. To never turn away from the hand that holds me, even when that hand presses me through fire, bends me beyond my knowing, or asks me to trust in silence without answers.