Like a Sunday Morning

We just got word we are moving again. Our tenth move. Back to Atlanta. I’m currently in the process of decluttering and packing up & there’s something interesting about the moving process: it makes you get real. When you have to pay by the box, you get down to the essentials: do i use this? Not “will i use this?” Or “one day i want to use this,” but “do i use this?” You are forced to see who you really are and what you really do. (I literally just asked my husband if it was ok to toss a fondu set that had been setting on the side table for months, with dreams of being used lol. I’m discovering we are very simple people.

It’s almost like Sunday mornings, where all pretense is stripped away & you stand, bare and empty handed, before God. Where you can’t hide behind your title or degrees or money or status…it’s just God and your heart. That’s the important thing about Sundays: they strip you to reveal you. All the good, bad and ugly so God can begin a good work in you. Don’t neglect Sundays, guys. They are vital in keeping the heart soft and real.

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