*A note before you read this. After doing an audit of my blog in 2022, I have decided to leave content that speaks to the Christian I was at the time this was written. I no longer identify as Christian (and haven’t for a very long time.) I chose to leave these posts because it is who I was then and it is important to me to be honest and true with every iteration and evolution of self that I experience. I may decide to add comments to the end of posts like this as well

Mick: “Everything you create is a holy act.”

Y’know, that terrifies me–worse than that but I can’t think of a word sufficient enough to describe the feeling. Perhaps the best explanation is this sentence in Hebrews: It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

Or in Philippians: continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.

How frightening it is for me to call out to this God who spins the universe and knows how many hairs are on my head. After all I’ve done and said and for all that I continue to do and say, all that ugliness, and yet he scoops me in his arms and I breathe His air and He is content to trust me again.

I wouldn’t even trust me, how can He?

I have nothing to offer Him but a bunch of broken pieces of a life I tried to command. I can offer Him my mistakes. The drunken nights, the sexual impurities, the revenge-seeking days, the depression laden nights. I can give him the hate and pride in my heart. What kind of offerings are these? Yet, he takes them and wraps them in His glory and dips them in His grace. He breathes His breath into them and then they are new. And good.

My brain can’t do it. Can’t process this kind of mercy. All I can do is write it down and hand it to Him. He makes it new.

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