Transplant time. GO.
This is what I’m telling God right now. I don’t need another task to do. I don’t need another verse to read, another song to sing. I need a heart transplant. And the only surgeon I’m asking goes by the initials of JC.
Jesus, can you remove this heart of stone and give me a new heart of flesh? Scratch that. I know You can. But will you??
And as soon as I ask that, He reminds me that He has not just begun the operation, but that He has finished it.
He has given me a new heart already. Somehow, I had managed to forget that… Ridiculous, huh? And it’s not just any new heart, but HIS own heart. Jesus, the Donor, died to give it to me, and God the Father performed the surgery when I asked for it a long time ago.
So this painful process I’m enduring now is not the heart transplant. It’s the messy fitting of the new heart from above into this earthly, human body. I already have the Holy Spirit within me, but the parts of my old, sinful self don’t know what to do with it. I can’t function at full potential when the unholy parts of me remain incompatible with the new, perfect heart He has died to give me. Cut them out, or mold them to perfection. Just don’t let them stay here and infect what is actually good!
It’s time for more therapy, Michelle. I’m going to teach you how to use what I gave you.
OH. Got it. Here we go.
Here’s something I journaled a while back:
Breaking is part of the process. But it doesn’t stop there. There’s remaking, and even that doesn’t stop. The remaking is continual. And it’s so, so beautiful. Slowly, ever so slowly, I am learning to rely on a HOPE for something bigger and now unimaginable. I know there’s so much more ahead. There has to be. Praise JC that He is not finished with me!!
He says, I have a plan for you. It’s gonna be wild, it’s gonna be great, it’s gonna be FULL OF ME.
I think I’m ready for more therapy now.
