Watch yourself unravel.

I woke up the other night into what would have been a panic if I had been coherent enough to process it.

But it was simply the whisper of the Holy Spirit reminding me of my heart of stone turning into one of flesh.

Those words, too–heart of stone, heart of flesh.

I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 11:14-21)

My heart is often rock within my ribs. I tend to be impatient, overly judgmental, holding my cards to my chest as others spill their secrets.

There's something particularly empowering in being the holder of somebody else's wrongs while yours remain snug within you.

Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy. (Proverbs 28:13)

How we love to fool ourselves into thinking we're the doctor, when really, we're the ones who are sick.

Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. (James 5:16)

I've never been one to share my heart with others, but the last few years God has been knocking down walls while my spirit walks through rubble. I have two friends who I meet with every other week. We sit and talk and share and pray, and I swear, I can feel God in that room every time.

It's an act of worship to not be who you always are. To remove the cynical thread that's knitted you together and to watch yourself unravel at the feet of someone who's in desperate need of Jesus as much as you are.

Like I told a friend, it's the act of free falling backwards, closing your eyes as the thread continues to snake itself away, and suddenly, you're two halves of a once complete whole, utterly beholden to the One who made you as He gently removes the malignancy of who you've always been and replaces it with who He's created you to be.