What a week.
[Insert heavy sigh and slump into couch here].
Have you ever had one of those weeks where God just fine tunes the patooty out of you? [We’ve been watching “Elmo’s Potty Time” at home, so I felt “patooty” was the most fitting word].
Well that has definitely been my week.
It’s been a dig up the dirt, examine the yuck, wipe off the ugly kind of week.
This momma has been going through one hot refiners fire.
I’ve seen things about myself that no person wants to see about themselves.
I’ve fought back tears so much that it makes my eyes sting just thinking about it. I’ve had that lump in my throat, pain in my stomach, wanna hide in the bathroom kind of feeling almost everyday.
I don’t share all of this for anyone to feel sorry for me. Or for anyone to say, “Oh, Sarah, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
Because that’s the easy way out and those are some of the darts from the enemy I’ve been fighting all week.
You know the ones I’m talking about. The piercing arrows that make you feel worthless. That make you feel like it’s the “other person’s fault” that you feel the way you do. That God wants you to bottle it all up because if you share your weaknesses you’ll lose your credibility, or lose a friendship, or lose someone’s trust or, even worse, not appear as the perfect person you’ve been painting yourself to be.
Well, friends, I’m here to tell you something. Those darts, arrows, jabs, whispers, taunts, whatever you want to call them, are not true.
I’m totally speaking from recent experience here.
I found myself being convicted of my fleshy ways and my sinful heart and the first thing I wanted to do was start believing the lies. Those lies made me feel better. They made it easier to not deal with what was going on in my heart.
And then, after my run on Monday morning [go figure] God showed me this verse:
“Physical training is good, but training for godliness is much better, promising benefits in this life and in the life to come.”
1 Timothy 4:8 NLT
And then in this blogpost, He showed me this:
“Let something steal your joy — and you let something steal your strength.”
I had spent my entire run arguing with my thoughts and with God if what I was feeling was true conviction. And the one thought that kept coming back to me was one that my husband has to remind of quite often, “God is not a God of disorder, but of peace…”
At that moment I knew what was going on in my heart was the Holy Spirit moving inside of me. He was cultivating my heart. He was showing me what breaks his heart — but not so I would feel terrible about it and hate myself. He was showing me so that I would have a heart of repentance. So that I would look at the sin that was so easily entangling me due to me allowing my emotions to get the best of me, and rise up with His power to defeat it.
He was reminding me during my run, that while my training was good for my body, the training he was doing in my heart was way better. He was showing me that there are no excuses for holding on to bitterness or unforgiveness or sinful thoughts. I needed to make amends. Whether it was with myself or someone else, it needed to happen.
And it did. With several people. Even with my own son. [There is nothing harder than asking your three year old to forgive you for losing your patience. Talk about crocodile tears].
And with each person that I said “I’m sorry” to, the more free I felt.
Grace is just one of those beautiful things that transcends any comprehension. I can’t even imagine how it makes Jesus feel when we come to him and say, “I’m sorry, Lord. Please forgive me.” I mean seriously. The ultimate giver of grace must do cartwheels in his heart every time we fess up to the yuck in our lives and take one step closer to being more like him.
So what’s hanging around in your heart that needs forgiving?
What are you hiding, thinking that if anyone were to see the dirt on your hands, they’d walk away from you?
And you know what, they might. But HE won’t.
So fess up. I’m not asking you to pour out your heart here on this blog. But I am challenging you to seek the heart of God and to pour your heart out to him. To allow Him to start cleaning out the dirt that you keep trying to sweep into the corner. Because eventually, that little dirt pile is going to turn into a mountain and it’s going to come crumbling down in an avalanche of bitterness. Wouldn’t you rather have God sweep it out of your heart completely so you don’t have to keep cleaning it up?