Keep a Quiet Heart

During this time of the year it seems so many people make and break New Year's resolutions, think back over the past year, look ahead hoping to make the New Year better, and yet there’s a vague sense that all isn't well. They feel...restless. Not sure why or how to fix it. So they get busy, get organized, pray more, do more, read more, and on and on the To-Do list grows.

Me too.

But today I'd had enough. I can't stand the static in my soul caused by the vague sense that something is wrong. So I prayed and wandered around in my thoughts digging up lies I'd believed in the past few days that were weighing heavy in my heart. Lies that are so familiar it bugs me to admit I'm still listening to them.

Lies as old as dirt, yet with a new twist. The “I’ll never be good enough” is now “I’ll never be a good enough writer—people will read my stuff and think it’s mindless drivel or full of sentimentality without any meat.” Or they won’t buy my books. Or I won’t win any awards or make it into a book catalog. Or this and that and even more of the other. An endless list of reasons why I’m “not good enough.” I already had a pretty long list of reasons before I added these writing ones.

The “I’m unlovable” lie has expanded to include the belief that I’m also a freak because my life isn’t a frenzy of activity during the holidays or any other time. And because I’m not busily involved with life, my kids are missing out and I’m not doing enough to serve. So I feel guilty. Add to that my comparing myself to talented authors and speakers whose biographies are filled with interesting accomplishments, and I come up short every time because I’m not doing enough. I’m not perfect enough, not nice enough, not skinny enough, not smart enough. And on and on the list of why I’m unlovable grows to unmanageable proportions.

I thought I’d dealt with these lists a year ago.

But there’s an enemy who doesn’t stop reciting those lists. An enemy who keeps whispering these lies are truth. So often they feel true. And often circumstances seem to confirm they are true.

Even though a tree on Calvary says different.

In the midst of realizing I was beginning to operate out of these lies again, a still small voice invited me to dance. I almost ignored it in favor of doing a Bible study that was on my To-Do list for today.

But the nudge was too strong and my heart longing too big to ignore the only One who could help me.

So I danced.

I told my Daddy all the things I’d believed while we swayed to the music. Then I started telling Him what I knew in my head was true. He stopped me there and spoke for Himself.

“You are my beloved child in whom I am well pleased.”

I stopped dancing and fell on my knees crying.

It doesn’t matter to God what my biography says or how many good things I do. I’ve learned I can’t keep a quiet heart when I’m busy. And when my heart isn’t quiet I miss times like tonight with God.

That I can’t live without.

So I listened to His whispered words to my heart and let them sink deep. Because what He says is all that really matters.

And He says I’m His. I’m my Daddy’s daughter regardless of what my flesh or the world tell me I should be.

The Great I AM is my Daddy. And I am His.

With that truth, my heart quiets.