Starting Lyme Treatment... Again

“Can I survive starting Lyme treatment all over again?”

I’ve been wrestling through this for the last few weeks, after I found out that two of my infections, Lyme and Babesia, are still active. It explains a lot of my ongoing symptoms, but it is discouraging since I treated hardcore for a few years and saw much improvement. Chronic illness is a roller coaster.

Facing another antibiotics round and then a long-term herbal protocol is something I definitely didn’t see coming, especially as I look towards my next decade of life.

But here I am again, staring at this one month supply of different antibiotics. I know my immune system is much more stable today than 4.5 years ago when I started Lyme treatment and that this will help. Even still, fear, anxiety, dread, grief hit in waves.

Is God good, even if He asks me to repeat the thing that I previously found to be the darkest season of life?

Yes, because God gives grace for each difficult moment, as I’ve experienced again and again.

So here I am, acknowledging, “not my will but Yours be done”, knowing that as God asks me to walk through treatment again, He will be faithful. I’m entrusting the unknowns of my life, health, and financial burden of treatment, to Jesus—my great Provider.

And so I can walk forward in faith, confident that Jesus will not lead me through anything He hasn’t already walked through (Heb. 4:15-16), and that He will never leave me. 

Today’s pain is temporary, but my hope is eternal.

When Fear Threatens to Take Over

I woke up with a few itchy hives, and fear battled for control of my thoughts. Normally hives wouldn't be a source of fear, but after 15 weeks of chronic hives, my mind immediately spins:

What if they don’t go away? What if they get really severe again?

It was a nightmare. Several months ago, a few random hives started up for unknown reasons. I thought they'd go away. But after gradually getting worse over a few weeks, I knew something wasn't right.

After a severe, painful hives explosion that I thought might send me to the ER (during COVID), my doctor prescribed several meds that I’ve been on for around 10 weeks now. And they made a huge difference. I thought the hives were pretty much gone.

But today fear and panic set the tone for my day when a handful of hives bugged me again (even with meds).

Life is hard, and so much is outside of our control. One day I’m making it just fine and proud of my health progress, the next day pain and fatigue take over and I’m helplessly crying again, discouraged about my limitations.

Weakness threatens all forms of self-sufficiency. It combats pride in my success or accomplishments. It tells me, “you can’t do this.” And that's when fear laughs.

Fear, in and of itself, is not wrong. But as Paul Tripp says, it makes a very bad master. Fear can drive me to despair and hopelessness. 

Or it can point me to the One where true hope is found.

When my lack of control stares me in the face and I don’t know what next week or even tomorrow will look like, I have to consciously stop the spiral of fearful thoughts and choose to focus on what’s true today: 

God is in control. 

He is faithful. 

My life might be hard, but He is still good. 

God has not left me alone.

While I don’t know what will happen tomorrow and whether my health will see improvement or another crisis, I know there will be sufficient grace then. Manna grace as I like to think of it—the kind Israel experienced in the day-by-day provision of their most basic needs. Not the kind of grace that takes us out of the hard, but the kind of grace we actually need.

So while my life hasn’t looked like I “planned”, and even though healing still includes ups and downs, God is still there. He has not left me. He is not wasting my pain—but redeeming it, somehow. He will not allow anything that is not for my benefit.

It may not be what I want. But somehow, it will still be good.

And that’s what I’m clinging to today.

Broken, but Beautiful

You thought things were going okay, when suddenly you find yourself sinking under the weight of loss, struggles, pain, your past, or life changes. You don't even know what just happened. All you know is that you feel terribly broken.

The disciples felt something like this on the boat during a huge storm. They were sure they were going to sink, and Jesus was going to sleep through it. Get this: they had Jesus, the Lord over the wind and waves, with them... but the storm threatened, and they freaked out, yelling at Jesus, "We're dying!" (Luke 8:22-25)

I resonate with the disciples' plight. I have a heavenly Father who walks with me through every moment of pain and difficulty, and yet sometimes I freak out or blame Him for the pain. I might even say something similar the disciples, "What are you doing God? I'm gonna die."

Do you ever feel this way?

The journey towards healing--whether that's from painful past hurt, chronic health problems, or your own life choices, is a long, strenuous one. We all walk through deep brokenness, and it impacts each of us in different, but weighty, ways.

Sometimes that brokenness leaves us feeling empty and without words. No one understands. We know we need to cast the burden on the Father, but we can't even munger up any words. That's ok. You can still cry out:

"God, help me. I can't do this."

God is there. He hears your cry and He answers. The Spirit intercedes for you with groanings to deep for words (Rom. 8:26). Wow, let that one seep in! As you cry out, allow God to comfort your heart (Ps. 94:19, 18:2). He is near to the brokenhearted (Ps. 34:18).

Another powerful truth: God not only wants to comfort you in your pain, but He wants to use your brokenness for good. It may enable you to reach a person you could have never reached before. It may give you grace and sympathy for others who are struggling. Your pain demonstrates this incredible reality:

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us." 2 Cor. 4:7

I've heard it explained that the imagery of us being "clay pots" implies that we're easily chipped or broken. But that's how God does His best work. He uses the things that are weak, the things others would overlook, to showcase His strength.

So let God work through you, a broken vessel, perfecting you and revealing His power (2 Cor. 12:9). When life is crushing, remember that He is producing beauty in and through your brokenness. Cry out to Him in your weakness, and let Him demonstrate His power.

He will use you more powerfully than you can imagine.

What's the point of this pain?

Do you ever ask yourself, "What's the point of all this pain?"

I do.

I'm trying two new IV treatments which involve me driving 4.5 hours round trip to my doctor once or twice a week. Phew. The rest of my time is spent recovering from driving and treatment and keeping up with basic tasks! I didn't expect another intense treatment round, so it was a very discouraging idea at first. To me, it's kind of a last-resort type of thing to improve lingering pain/fatigue from my years of chronic lyme, co-infections, and autoimmune issues. Thankfully, I'm stable enough to make this drive (HUGE praise!), even though it's exhausting.

Though from the outside this treatment appears hopeful, I have battled a lot of fear. There are many unknowns. About health. Finances. Future. Whether this will make a difference. And many more things...

Can I be honest? The last five years of my life have been one thing after another. I'm tired of living day-by-day. Tired of all the unknowns, the rollercoaster of symptoms and emotions, the physical overreactions to stress, the sudden inability to push through "normal life"... the forced rest, slow pace, mundane.

I'm weary of it all.

Starting new treatment felt like I was choosing to walk through hell. Again. I was very resistant at first. It is still painful for me to recall the excruciating physical pain and fatigue that's resulted from lyme/co-infection treatment. But often what scares me more than physical symptoms is the accompanying deep depression. It has been a long, strenuous battle.

The planner side of me longs for a future. Things to look forward to and to work towards. I long for some semblance of a normal life. Slowing down again to focus on treatment and live day-by-day was not on my agenda!

Then I remember, how long did the Israelites wander through the wilderness, forced to daily rely on God for the most basic need (of food)?

Forty years.

In that long season, God was proving Himself trustworthy to Israel. Over and over. Through their lack, He was teaching them to lean on Him. This was a work of grace. Even in their anger and accusations against God, He continued to demonstrate His kindness to His people.

And He's doing the same for me. For you.

So what's the point of this pain? While I don't have all the answers, I know it is slowly helping me cling to the God, who deserves my trust. To lean on Him instead of myself. To taste and see that He is good, even when life is not. In the midst of the pain, His kindness and care and gentleness are evident, if I will only open my eyes to it.

God may not feel trustworthy to you right now because of the deep pain and heartache you face. It's ok to wrestle in that way. But He has not abandoned you in your wilderness. He displays His love and care for you in your deepest darkness. And the One who has redeemed you will not let you go. Cling to the Rock, and let Him comfort your heart today.

With a Mountain Before You

Do you ever argue with God?

"I can't do this...."
"What you're asking is too much...."
"This is impossible...."

Sometimes life just doesn't make sense to us, and we grapple to find hope or purpose when there's a mountain before us. Much-Afraid, in Hinds' Feet for High Places, showcases the same struggle:

“Oh Shepherd, you said you would make my feet like hinds’ feet and set me upon High Places.”

“Well,” he answered cheerily, “the only way to develop hinds’ feet is to go by the path which the hinds use—like this one.”

Much-Afraid trembled and looked at him shamefacedly. “I don’t think...I want...hinds’ feet, if it means I have to go on a path like that,” she answered painfully.

“Oh yes you do,” he answered cheerfully. “I know you better than you know yourself, Much-Afraid. You want it very much indeed, and I promise you these hinds’ feet.

“But I never dreamed you would do anything like this! Lead me to an impassable precipice up which nothing can go but deer and goats, when I’m no more like a deer or a goat than is a jellyfish… Why it’s too preposterously absurd! Whatever will you do next?”

“I love doing preposterous things,” the Shepherd replied, “Why, I don’t know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength, and fear into faith, and that which has been marred into perfection.”
- Hinds’ Feet on High Places, Hannah Hurnard

Like Much-Afraid. sometimes it seems like God asks too much of me—that it's "preposterous". Or at times, I don't desire the end result enough to motivate me through the painful process.

But you know what's comforting in the midst of the mountains we don't want to climb?

It's not up to us.

While that can seem incredibly discouraging to our control-crazy selves, this is actually a wonderful benefit to us.

God always provides circumstances what will be best for us in the long-run. Not temporarily easy circumstances or perhaps what we want. But He is a loving Father who always does things for our good. He sees all, while we see only a tiny portion. God's not punishing us; He's doing what He knows will bring the greatest good.

If we surrender our wills and let Him gently push us in areas we don't want to go, we will bear greater fruit and benefit in our lives than we ever thought possible.

Let's trust Him. Let's rest in His goodness and care. That mountain may feel impossible, but God delights in revealing His strength in the impossible.

Encountering Grace

Over the last few years, I can't count the number of days I've thought, "I can't make it through another day." I can't depict how much pain, fatigue, depression, heartache, and struggles have defeated me. Yet amidst it, God's redemptive work has been evident. I've begun to more fully grasp the amazing reality of God's grace.

There's a simple, but powerful, sentence in James:

("He gives more grace" - James 4:6)

This is the most hopeful news we can hear today.

Think about it...
Are you stuck in a sin pattern?
Lying on your bed in pain... again?
Facing considerable problems at your job?
Experiencing challenges with your children?
Fighting an uphill battle in ministry?
Walking through hurt or a broken relationship?
Wondering how to persevere through the mundane or hard?

In all of that, God offers grace. To you. Right now.

The grace we are offered is not grace to "get out" of the circumstance or pain, as we often desperately want. Rather, it's the grace to face whatever is before us.

More than that, it's grace that doesn't run out. Grace that isn't based on our performance. That is the beauty of God's grace. But we have to acknowledge our need for it (Ps. 86:6). We need to humble ourselves and run to the throne of grace.

And as we do that, we find hope and rest.

He Gives More Grace
So how does this concept of grace apply to me today?

Because of God's grace....

- I don't have to fall into self-pity or despair when I’m exhausted, weary, or struggling. Instead, I can look up to Christ. His power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).
He gives more grace.

- I can battle my sin. Yes, I have to work at it, but I can't do it on my own (1 Cor. 15:10).
He gives more grace.

- I can run to the throne and find receive mercy and forgiveness when I fail (Heb. 4:16).
He gives more grace.

- I can stop looking to myself, my performance, or my righteousness, and look to Christ (2 Cor. 5:21). 
He gives more grace.

Let's not miss the grace that is offered to us today.

Detours: An Unexpected Grace

Some days, I get things checked off my to-do list and am proud of my accomplishments. Other days, I have grand plans, and my symptoms nail me, forcing me to stop and rest.

Early on in chronic illness, I lived in almost constant frustration with the de-railing of my plans and would become incredibly overwhelmed at my inability to accomplish my goals. However, over the last few years God has continued to teach me to rest and accept the detours as a form of grace.

While setting and accomplishing goals are very good things, it’s so easy for me to attach my worth to what I do. I become obsessed with my accomplishments, my success, my dreams, my goals, my ministry.

So God, in His grace, gently reminds me that focusing on myself or what I do never provides purpose and hope. It doesn't last. He redirects the day, stripping away temporary things and offering something eternal (2 Cor. 4:17-18).

Instead of believing the lie that God is somehow against me or keeping what’s best from me, I must speak the truth to my heart that God is good and all He does is good (Ps. 119:68). That He who sacrificed His own Son for my sake would not deny me anything good (Rom. 8:28). That what I see as a wasted detour is actually God's pruning method so I might be more fruitful (Jn. 15:1-2).

If I can bring the gospel to mind in my detours, I can recognize:

Even the delaying of my goals or the frustration of my plans is an act of God’s grace.

Yes, including the timing on this very blog post. My own writing agenda and goals were delayed time and time again. I've attempted to finish a blog post for an entire week (talk about waste of time!), with my own share of detours, chronic illness flares, wrestlings over writing, and inability to communicate my thoughts.

While it's been frustrating to feel so stuck, God is using this to remind me to let Him do His work today in the delays. To not fight it. To accept today's detours as an unexpected, but good, grace of God. He only does what is best for me. And for you. 

May we learn to rest in His goodness and care.

"For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. 

No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly." 

Psalm 84:11

Facing Your Frailty

Do you feel frail today? Are your limitations, weaknesses, and sins at the forefront of your mind?

God knows our frailty and does not despise it:

"As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.
For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.”
Psalm 103:13-14

The all-powerful God is a compassionate and gentle Father. He knows we are weak. He doesn't expect perfection, He asks for our humble dependence.

Dependence is only possible through the redeeming work of the gospel in our hearts. The gospel levels all of us to the same need: the need for a Savior.

You can face your frailty with hope today because nothing you do changes your standing as a child of God. Not your success, performance, achievements, or anything else. It's the imparting of Christ's righteousness, not your own, that makes you blameless. The gospel provides the only way to face our human frailty without feeling like a failure.

Thus the gospel brings hope to the worst sin, the darkest struggles, and the hardest pain. This means...

• When you respond sinfully again, you can turn to Him and find forgiveness (1 Jn 1:9).
• When you become fearful and anxious, you can find comfort in the Savior who will never leave you (Heb. 13:5).
• When you are stuck on your bed in pain, you can find hope in the truth that God isn't wasting anything (1 Pet. 1:6-7).
• When all around you is falling apart, you can run to the Rock and find shelter (Ps. 18:2).

God sympathizes and cares for you in your weakness and frailty. He doesn't ask you to be strong. He wants you to experience His strength in your weakness:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
2 Corinthians 12:9-10

If you battle chronic illness, your frailty may be more evident than the average person. But it's not a bad thing to feel frail. It means you are human, and you need Jesus and gospel hope to face your frailty.

And that is true for all of us.

Chronic Illness Lessons: It's Ok to Rest

One particularly difficult challenge in chronic illness is learning to rest well. Resting is not easy for anyone, but especially when you're hit with limitations and forced to rest as a young person. You  expect to be able to push through, to do anything, to have unlimited energy and stamina! And other may expect that of you, making the necessity of resting even more difficult.

In learning that it's ok (and even biblical!) to rest, there are a few practical things that have helped me rest better:

1. Don't fight it. I realize there are times to push yourself and times you just have to make it through. But when possible, learn to accept the crash and simply rest. This means you have to mentally rest too, instead of fretting or striving about what you can't do. Find a way to engage your mind that's restful for you. Listening to a book or music, watching a movie, coloring, writing a note to someone, laughing at corny jokes, doing word art, or organizing your phone pictures could be restful things. Often the things you did to rest before chronic illness will not be restful anymore, so experiment and be creative, finding what works for you!

2. Learn to pace. This hits my pride. I don't like to be seen as weak or unable to do things. Right now I'm trying to build up my stamina, and that means I go on very short, slow walks at a steady pace. I'm talking 5-10 minutes max. In the moment, sometimes I think I can go much further, but in the end I pay for it when I push myself too far. Pacing is a form of rest that helps you use your limited energy more effectively.

3. Let go of the list. If you've crashed, sometimes there are things that need to go, at least temporarily. If the dishes sit a little longer or the bathroom doesn't get cleaned as frequently, that's ok. If you have to scramble for pantry food for dinner or wait to get the oil changed, that's ok. If you have less time to devote to a project or paper, that's ok. The more you can learn to not become stressed or anxious when those things are put aside, the quicker you can heal.

4. Break up tasks into small, manageable goals. I've found I can rest better when I know what's coming and don't feel overwhelmed by my impending to-do list or afraid I'll forget something important. So I write everything down. Then I try to break those up into more manageable goals. A fellow chronic illness sufferer told me for a while, her goal was to have the bathroom sink cleaned each day! It was small but accomplishable goal. Simplifying tasks or goals may help you rest better.

There's a lot more to resting that could be said. But rest is a God-given blessing that was instituted from the beginning of the world:

"By the seventh day God completed His work which He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made." Genesis 2:2-3

God Himself, the unlimited one, chose to rest, to set an example for us. How much more do we, as limited beings, need rest! So don't fear rest and don't fight it. Accept it as a form of God's grace to you in this season. You are not sovereign. The world will continue on even when you stop.

It's ok to rest.

When Prayers are Unanswered

God doesn’t often answer our prayers in the way we’d like. He doesn’t always take away the trouble. But He does answer:

“On the day I called, You answered me;
my strength of soul You increased.”
Psalm 138:3

God answers by strengthening us, enabling us to stand against the pressures of life.

This is grace.

It isn’t the form of grace I generally appreciate. Most often, I plead for the trial to go away. I long for life to be better. It's not wrong to want that. God gave us that yearning to help us long for heaven, the day when all will be made right. Until then, the curse of sin has left this world broken.

On the other hand, sometimes we miss what God is doing right now because we are so focused on getting out of the difficulty. Vaneetha Rendall Risner talks about "rescuing grace" and "sustaining grace" in her book, The Scars that Have Shaped Me. We all long for rescue from our circumstances. Yet there is something beautiful to be gained from sustaining grace in a trial. Vaneetha explains:

"With sustaining grace, we must continually go back to God. This grace is not a one-time thing, just as manna was not a one-time event. We need it every day. And it keeps us dependent on God. With sustaining grace, we get more of Jesus. His comfort, his nearness, his very presence."

Psalm 138 continues with a similar theme...

“Though I walk in the midst of trouble,
You preserve my life…
The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me.” (vs. 7a, 8a)

God is fulfilling His purpose for you. That is not to sound cliché or make light of your suffering, but to provide hope. God walks with you. He preserves you when you feel like you cannot make it another day. This is sustaining grace. Vaneetha looks back on her lack of rescuing grace in the midst of much suffering and imparts this wisdom:

“God loved me enough not to rescue me. He knew I needed to see him, to sense his presence, to understand his heart. I needed those things more than I needed rescue.”

This is a hard truth, but a freeing one. Have you wondered sometimes how you've made it this far? How you've pushed through so much pain and fatigue? How you've persisted, despite the tremendous hurt and suffering you've experienced?

This is grace. God's sustaining grace. And that same grace will be with you and keep you to the end.

"Through many dangers, toils and snares 

We have already come. 

Twas grace that brought us safe thus far, 

And grace will lead us home."

If you want an encouraging book from someone who has suffered greatly, read The Scars that Have Shaped Me: How God Meets Us in Suffering!

Letting Go of the List

I’m a list maker. Before chronic illness, I made my daily to-do list, and no matter how much I had to do, I usually was pretty successful, efficient, and managed to complete everything I needed to do. I hated leaving things undone. I hated waiting til the last minute to finish something (in my mind, "last minute" was finishing a college paper the week it was due). ;)

But when pain and fatigue hit hard, everything changed. Granted, I still made to-do lists. But often half the things would be left undone, and I would constantly end the day frustrated and disappointed. I could never attain my own goals and standards, and I hated that. I strongly believed I was just making lists of the bare minimum; they weren’t even lofty goals by that point.

In that process, I had to learn to let things go. I had to practice saying, “no, I can’t do that.” I discovered that it was ok to put off a chore til another day, or to eat simple foods instead of cooking. I could let someone else pick up groceries for me or cook for me. I had to miss out on fun things with friends. It was one of the hardest things for me: to let things go and to be served.

As someone who likes to help others, but hates "burdening others" by being served, I started to feel like I had lost my purpose in life. I believed the lie that my life didn’t have value because I wasn’t doing the things I once could. My perspective was very skewed and self-centered, ironically.

My to-do list is very different right now. It requires taking time to rest when a wave of fatigue or pain hits. It means leaving a project half-finished or taking a break when I desperately just want to complete it. It means spending nearly all my time at home, doing things at a turtle's pace, whereas before I was always on the go. For this season, my life is very mundane.

And I’m slowly learning to be ok with that.

I fought it for a long time (reality check: I still do some days). I hated my limitations. But by God's grace, I’m learning to let go of my plans. Not because it’s bad. Goals are a very important thing! But God is teaching me to hold everything with an open palm, even my good goals. It's sometimes a painful process, but a necessary one.

I'm continually reminded that my worth is not based on how much I do. Because of Christ, I can rest today, knowing that I’m not loved because of my accomplishments, but simply because He loves me! I don’t have to prove myself to God or to anyone else. I can be faithful to do those little things I can do, and leave the rest in His hands. That’s all He asks of me.

Where the Rubber Meets the Road

Ministry is a beautiful, wonderful gift from God. But it is often met with much disappointment, hurt, and heartache. Growing up in a pastor’s family, I had countless opportunities for church and life ministry. It produced a lot of joy. But I also realized that the hardest ministry is often the ministry right in front of you.

It’s the choice to love someone who's hurt you deeply over and over.
It’s sharing the gospel with the neighbor who still hasn’t responded.
It’s using your time to serve others rather than pursue selfish gain or pleasure.
It’s gently speaking truth to someone caught in sin.
It’s sacrificing for your family when you don’t feel like it.
It’s serving your church in an unnoticed role.
It’s reaching out to someone who has rejected you. 
It’s honoring and obeying your parents when they aren’t “worthy” of honor.
It’s loving someone who doesn’t love you back.
It’s looking for ways to encourage the younger Christian who annoys you.
It’s secret giving that blesses others.
It’s forgiving someone when you want to hang on to bitterness.

As much as we would like to think ministry is a walk in the park, the truth is, ministry is hard. People misunderstand you, hurt you, and reject you. That friend you counsel may suddenly ignore your advice and refuse to speak to you. The family member you’ve been working hard to reach out to may never respond. The way you serve in your local church may be met with more criticism than appreciation.

How can you continue to love and minister to others when this happens? It’s much more tempting to become cynical of all ministry and people. One thing I’ve learned is that persevering, sacrificial ministry can’t happen when your hope is in people. Most of my disappointment in ministry has been due to how others have treated me. The people you invest in may turn on you. Someone you care about may sin grievously against you. The people you trusted may prove to be untrustworthy. When people hurt you, the natural temptation is to give up on them out of self-protection.

So when the disappointments of ministry hit, you must put your hope in God. He is the only true Refuge when the brokenness of our world and the sinfulness of our hearts and other people’s swallow us. He has loved you with an everlasting love (Jer. 31:3). He pursued you when you hated and rejected Him. He never fails you or gives up on you (Deut. 32:4, 2 Tim. 2:13).

God’s love for us demonstrated in the gospel gives us the motivation to love and minister to others unconditionally. When the reality of life-on-life ministry hits us square in the face and makes us want to live in an isolated cabin for the rest of our lives, we must run back to the cross. That is the only way we can love without growing weary (Heb. 12:3).

So the next time a friend rejects you or you have to forgive someone again, remember that Jesus faced the ultimate rejection and suffering for your sake. Ask God to give you the grace to continue to love and serve those around you, no matter how they respond. Ask God to help you put your hope in Him.

This is where the rubber meets the road in ministry, and while it is never an easy road, it is one that can be met with much joy.

 “If you live gladly to make others glad in God, your life will be hard, your risks will be high, and your joy will be full.” 
John Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life

Tune My Heart

There are so many beautiful correlations to the Christian life. So much imagery that helps us see our need for God. Like the line in Come Thou Fount:

“Tune my heart to sing Thy grace”

I’m a musician, so I understand the challenge of an un-tuned instrument. It sounds awful, even in its attempt to create beautiful music. And if two instruments playing together are not in tune, they will clash terribly.

Sadly, it captures the state of my heart so frequently. We will never be free from the sinfulness in our hearts on this earth. My heart is prone to wander. My heart gets distracted by the temporary and neglects the eternal. I need my heart tuned frequently. Daily.

David captures this in the prayer of Psalm 139:23-24:

Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting! (ESV)

Because of the remaining sin in my heart, my heart needs daily tuning so that I can be in sync with the Father. I don’t want to be playing my own music solo. I want to be in tune with Him. This tuning comes from sitting before God with His Word open, ready to listen and obey. Asking Him to search our hearts and reveal what is true, open our eyes, and help us respond in repentance and obedience as He brings things to the light.

Tune my heart, Lord Jesus, to sing Thy grace.

Originally posted on the Vision of Hope blog.