If I am being honest, I didn’t want to write this today. In the face of a new year, I have been praying for weeks now for a theme to carve out for the next 365 days. Instead, all I could think about is how I struggle nonstop with feeling crushingly inadequate as a parent. I’m tired, ya’ll, and I don’t’ want to start a new year that way. Probably shouldn’t start a blog post that way, either, now that I think about it.
But you know what? I was convicted tonight, sitting in the heated seats of my minivan (can I get an Amen, it’s 6˚F here!!), praying again for a few quiet moments tucked in between Tai Kwan Do classes and homework and dinner and dishes. Convicted, because in my sorrow and self-pity, I was ignoring the truth of a gospel that delivers us long after it saves us, again, and again, and again.
- to set free from restraint, confinement, or servitude, also: to let go.
- to relieve from something that confines, burdens, or oppresses
- to give up in favor of another
I am set free, and not from my responsibility to shepherd my babes, no, but from the worry, yes, the expectations I set for myself, the idols I’ve constructed in the comfort of my heated seats, and the value I’ve ascribed to the things of the world that are comprised solely of dust and straw….
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