Gina Maria

“I will exalt you, Lord, for you rescued me.
    You refused to let my enemies triumph over me.”

Psalm 30:1

Just a reminder: our Enemy is a liar. Do not entertain his fantasies.

They are false. They are not true.

We’ve all experienced the moment the Enemy plops a meticulously planned memory in our minds. It’s sprinkled with elements of truth, but it’s not true. It’s old content, but looks like it’s happening right now. And though it’s twisted, it feels real. We think we want it because it’s there. We can feel it, taste it, touch it.

Newsflash: It’s not actually there. It’s an illusion.

Nonetheless, we willingly toy with the temptation to say yes to distress, to dance with the darkness of our minds.

But in spite of who we are,

God is.

God says no when we don’t.

In His goodness, faithfulness, and love, God rescues us from the mental trap of illusion. He refuses to let our enemy triumph over us with untruths. Our Father whispers through light, space, and time, “It’s a lie.“

He exposes the weakness of the enemy’s lies – every time. He pulls off the mask held over our faces; allowing us to see, hear, and smell the fabricated fantasy for what it truly is: false. 

Let’s get one thing clear: spiritual deliverance is a necessary component for every believer. As we walk this walk, generational spiritual wounds of sin and shame must be uplifted, and the ground where they once stood must be drenched in the blood of Jesus.

But years after the deliverance has happened, the enemy attempts to convince us that we need to be delivered again – that this old thing has come back.

It hasn’t. That’s a lie.

One time, the Lord gave me a vision. It came on the heels of 40 days of fasting for deliverance from an intense sexual stronghold.

I saw an moving image on a wall; a short film played out as a projection. It felt 4D- I could hear it, feel it, taste it. It was a fabricated sinful sexual situation; a composition of recycled garbage from my past. But on the floor next to the wall was a bucket of bright red paint and a paint roller. As I dipped the roller into the bucket of crimson, and rolled it up and down the wall, the mural faded into oblivion. As the red paint washed over the sinful flick, the wall turned white. The projected film that once felt so real had been exposed as a fleeting hologram; one completely subjected to red paint – the beautiful blood of Jesus.

Let us never forget the power of the blood of Jesus. Let us take up our paint rollers and apply the blood to any and every thought that exalts itself above the knowledge of Christ; for the enemy’s calculated lies are never in competition for truth.

Truth wins every time.

 

“Establish my footsteps in Your word,
And do not let any iniquity have dominion over me.”

Psalm 119:33, NASB

As a member of my church’s worship team, I am currently reading through The Pursuit of God by AW Tozer – and it is wrecking me. To truly pursue the Father of lights, we must be willing to come into the light; we must allow His light to reveal the unlimited layers of sin that plague our hearts.

Don’t shine a light on me, please. I’m a mess.

Especially when it comes to this: possessiveness.

The second chapter talks about the problem of possessiveness; the innate human tendency to exalt things or people or ideologies to the highest place in our hearts.

We all do it. We all exalt something – usually, a good thing – above God.

Tozer stresses the spiritual significance of allowing God to cleanse us from our unhealthy affairs with anything or anyone that isn’t Him. He insists that the secret to a heart full of freedom is the art of renunciation. To illustrate his point, he references Abraham and Issac.

He elaborates on the anguish that our Father of Faith must have felt that night on the slopes near Beersheeba, the night the Lord called him to sacrifice his only son. The son he waited for, the son he prayed for. The representation of God’s promise.

But it was a test.

Tozer writes, “God let the suffering old man go through with it up
to the point where He knew there would be no retreat,
and then forbade him to lay a hand upon the boy. To
the wondering patriarch He now says in effect:

‘It’s all right, Abraham. I never intended that you should actually
slay the lad. I only wanted to remove him from the temple
of your heart that I might reign unchallenged there. I
wanted to correct the perversion that existed in your love.'”

How does God tear away the unhealthy tendons connecting our hearts to others?

He reminds us that He did what Abraham didn’t do. 

God gave us His son as a sacrifice to purify our love. And He calls us to meet Him at the altar, too.

What relationship in your life is God asking you to bring to the altar – not for the purpose of killing it, but of purifying it in His love?

Personally, I idolize certain people’s opinions. Their opinions motivate my decisions. Their opinion of me motivates my decisions.

While wisdom comes from wise council, there are certain situations in which God wants to speak directly to us. We need to hear Him for ourselves. And more often than not, rather than asking others what they think I should do, God would have me go directly to His Word. God would have me sit and wait to hear His voice.

But that takes time. That takes humility. I’d prefer to just ask a mentor who has walked closely with God for years and obey whatever she may say.

But that’s exalting her to place of God.

Let’s go deeper: by choosing the immediacy of a human’s voice rather than practicing the spiritual disciplines of patience, holiness, and fasting to hear God’s voice, I am ignoring the access I have to the Father; the access granted to the Holy of Holies which was purchased for me by such a high price.

The access granted through the cross.

Through the cross, God once and for all purified our love for Him and for other things. Through the cross, Jesus can come to dwell in our hearts. And only when He is on the throne of our hearts can we rightly love those around us.

We all struggle with this.

Maybe it’s a relationship. Maybe there is someone or something that you idolize above God. Allow God to show you the posture of your heart towards this person and to purify your affections in the light of His love.

“Where are you working now?”

Every artist’s most dreaded question.

I’m still there. Er, here. I’m here. I think.

What?

It’s hard to explain.

I was there for a while. Then, I tried doing something else. That something else was nothing. So I left.

I went somewhere else.

Now, I’m here. Here is hard. I thought I was just going to be doing one thing, but I do multiple things. And all the things aren’t really anything. I don’t know what I do.

The people I don’t listen to told me not to take the position.

The people I do listen to said, “You can do this.”

I said, “I can do this.”

But it’s hard.

It makes me nervous. That means I’m growing…right?

I don’t know. I don’t have insurance. And I don’t know how much money I’ll make each month. And I don’t have a professional email address.

I get nervous when I go to work because I don’t want to do it. But it gives me the time to do my art…

…I think. I don’t know.

It’s not that bad.

But I don’t want to do it.

I want to quit but I’m afraid to quit because I don’t want people to think I’m a quitter.

I’m afraid to quit because I don’t want God to be mad at me because I messed up His plan.

Wait a minute….

 

Oh, how telling it is
that in your last few hours on earth,
humanity rebelled through those who knew you best.
They fell asleep,
kissed your cheek.
They lied, denied,
ran from your side.
In those final hours,
The vices of your beloved
Conspired to remind you
that your friends
are your enemies.
In Judas, betrayal is victorious.
In Peter, fear rejoices.
As darkness falls, sin rises.
Sin speaks up through the flesh of men because it thought it was winning.
But in reality,
the enemy’s kisses
drew you into destiny.
The death of death.
It’s time.
The bruises of betrayal furthering your resolution…

“Thy will be done.”

“Take delight in the Lord,
    and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

    Psalm 37:4 NIV

Church is not God.

Church is a group of faithful people gathered at a common place with the intention to meet with God.

But church is not God.

Those of us raised by church-going folk, (we contemporary 20-somethings who have since gone astray from the ways of Sunday morning praise) quickly associate our sentiments towards church with our sentiments towards God. 

But church is not God.

I used to like going to church because I knew all the answers in Sunday School; and nice ladies would tell my mom that they prayed their little girls would grow up to be just like me. As I got older, I still knew the answers – but I didn’t raise my hand as much because I had to put up with Saturday night screaming in my ear; telling me to put my hand down. It wasn’t fun anymore.

Eventually, Saturday stole Sunday.

I decided I didn’t like church. I stopped going.

And because I didn’t like church, I thought I also didn’t like God.

But church is not God.

We were made for God. No other religion or philosophy or worldview leads to eternal, everlasting life. Only Jesus can satisfy every longing. Only Jesus came to give us life and life to the fullest.

We know this. We’re Sunday school superstars.

But when we find ourselves avoiding church: whether for fear of judgement, fear of conviction, or otherwise, we must ask ourselves,

Are we avoiding church, or we are avoiding God?

 If we believe in God’s love and existence and goodness, why do we avoid the physical space designated for an encounter with Him?

Because we don’t delight in Him.

You cannot truly delight in church until you have learned to delight in God. Belonging to a church is the natural extension of a heart that delights in God. Until you desire to dwell in His presence, you will continue to avoid church.

But how do we delight in God when we just want to do bad things?

It’s hard.

It requires change. It requires intentionality. It requires humility. It requires sacrifice.

It requires doing things you don’t want to do – reading your Bible instead of reading 50 Shades of Grey. Listening to worship music instead of listening to top 40. Watching a sermon series instead of binging on Orange is the New Black. 

It requires faith in the truth of the entirety of this verse: Psalm 37 promises that as we take the time to just sit in His presence – even when we don’t want to – He will implant new desires within us. He will uproot the stems of Saturday night sexual sin. Tequila won’t taste as good. Porn won’t be worth it.

Why?

Because He will give us new desires.

Good desires.

      Peace. Joy. Purpose. His Presence. 

Then, and only then, will we gladly go to church.

You know what’s the best part about being alive in 2018? The spiritual climate. In case you haven’t noticed, the weather is extreme in the unseen. Either you follow Jesus, or you don’t. Long gone are the comfortable days of sitting on the Devil’s backyard fence, feet dangling; hesitating to jump into the everlasting garden God’s grace. If that’s you, please…just jump already.

But if you’ve, like me, jumped the fence, (or, if God has pulled you over), you are truly among the saved. And if you are among the saved, you face multiple battles each and every day. Though it might feel as if you are warring against your family, your boyfriend, or your boss – you’re not. You’re fighting against evil.

The Bible is very clear about this. To fight this everyday battle, we who obtain our identity from Jesus Christ have been gifted spiritual armor – weapons of offense and defense that possess unseen power. They’re listed in Ephesians 6. In this well-known chapter, the apostle Paul instructs those at the church in Ephesus to be strong in the Lord by figuratively putting on each piece of armor.

For those of us who’ve grown up in church, we’re probably pretty familiar with the verses describing the armor of God. We may have sung songs in Vacation Bible School about it. We may even be able to recite the different pieces by memory.

But the armor God must not just be memorized. It must be applied.

Every morning this week, I’ve applied the armor of God in faith. I’ve gone down the list, reciting each one, placing my hands on the part of my body where each piece would rest. And every day this week – I’ve won. I encourage you to do the same.

Here is a step-by-step application, gleaning from various other Bible verses to provide context. Recite each of these, asking God for the faith to believe in their power.

Belt of Truth: In the name of Jesus, I put on the Belt of Truth. I declare in Jesus’ name – He whom the son sets free is free indeed. Jesus, you are the way, the truth, and the life. No one can access the Father by any other name. Jesus, you are the word made flesh. You intersected into humanity to redeem your creation. You died and rose again, defeating the power of sin and death. Thank you for the truth of your saving power, Jesus. I am not ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ: because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes.

Breastplate of Righteousness: In the name of Jesus, I put on the breastplate of righteousness. I thank you Jesus, that you who knew no sin became sin so that I may become the righteousness of Christ. I declare that there is now therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. You have given me your righteousness! And because you have made me righteous, I will remain in your love. I will flee temptation and pursue righteousness and holiness because of your great love. I will walk in the manner worthy of the calling on my life – because of your great love.

Shoes of Peace: In the name of Jesus, I put on the shoes of the readiness of the gospel of peace. I thank you, Father that your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. I pray Lord, may your peace hem me in behind and before. Wherever I go, may the peace of your presence come with me. Whatever room I walk into, let me carry your presence. Would you shift the spiritual atmosphere of every room? Would you lead me by your Spirit? Would you guide my feet for your purpose and plan?

Shield of Faith: In the name of Jesus, I put on the shield of faith, with which to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. I thank you, God, for giving me this faith; for it is by faith that I am saved. Would you preserve my faith, oh Lord?  This faith, that is more precious than gold. This faith that guards me by your power. This faith – without it, it is impossible to please God. By faith, I believe you reward all those who seek you earnestly – I seek to please you earnestly today, my Father.

Helmet of Salvation: In the name of Jesus, I put on the Helmet of Salvation. Jesus, would you be the gatekeeper of my mind? Would you guard my thoughts? I take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ – not of myself, but of Christ. Holy Spirit, I surrender my mind to your ruling. For who can know the mind of a person except that own person? In the same way, Spirit of Christ, take over my mind. Give me the mind of Christ. Holy Spirit, tear down strongholds that exalt themselves above the knowledge of Christ. Let me think only on what is noble, what is honorable, what is true, what is pure, what is lovely, what is admirable, what is praiseworthy – let me think only on those things.

Sword of the Spirit: In the name of Jesus, I take up the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God. Jesus, when you were tempted in the wilderness, you defeated the enemy with three scriptures. No weapon is more powerful than your word of truth. Let my spirit hunger and thirst for your word. Holy Spirit, bring battle verses to remembrance in my time of need! For the word of God is sharper than any double-edged sword; able to cut between bone and marrow. Let your word bring conviction, repentance, healing, and restoration.

Now, stand firm! 

 

Oh, what a day. What a day full of grace.

What wonders of grace that blow me away. As the winds of His spirit rush through me, My arms fly back in freedom: I am His.

And He is mine. His spirit tingles within me, the light of the world radiating through my bones. I am His.

Jesus Christ’s love compels me to move and speak and think and pray and love the Creation that was created through Him, including me. I am His.

God sends grace-filled rivers of redemption to flow through my friendships. He gives me the grace to listen. I surrender to His presence, my mind on His, until Christ’s compassion bleeds through my heart. I am His.

His grace opens ears. His grace lets me hear His heart. With open ears, I hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches.

“Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

 

All you need…
is a mustard seed.

 

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again,  but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

John 4:13-14

The Bible is not misogynistic. Jesus, God in the flesh, continually challenged the societal and spiritual understandings of a woman’s purpose and value, advocating for her worth.

However, one could argue that many of Jesus’ teachings have been taught in somewhat of a misogynistic light.

Here is a classic example: the infamous Woman at the Well.

In certain Christian circles, “the Woman at the Well” is a well-known story. It occurs in the beginning of Jesus’ ministry; and can be found in the fourth chapter of the New Testament book of John.

As the story goes, Jesus was on his way to Galilee; and in order to get there, he had to pass through a foreign land – Samaria. About halfway, Jesus got thirsty, as would any man traveling by foot in the hot Middle Eastern heat, (even a man who is fully God). He strategically stopped at a historical landmark: Jacob’s well. Shortly after, a Samaritan woman came to draw water.

Jesus strikes up a conversation with the Samaritan woman by asking her for a drink. She hesitates to respond; because she knows that He is both a man and a Jew –  thus, this conversation should not be happening. Their racial and gender differences are more than enough to steer them into careening silence.

But Jesus isn’t bothered.

He continues to initiate an intimate conversation with her, eventually revealing his preexisting knowledge of some incredibly telling details about her personal life – she had five husbands. And the man she’s with now? That’s not her husband. Jesus already knew.

We’ve now come to the most popular part of the story: the five husbands. When teaching on this text, we often over-estimate the importance of the woman’s sin. We will zero in on her shortcomings; exploiting her shame to make them feel better about our own sin – all in an attempt to somehow quantify God’s grace. “Who is this God that can even forgive a woman with five husbands. What grace!”

Or, we’ll find that the Samaritan woman often joins the long, misconstrued list of sinners who have received the forgiveness of God. She’ll join the ranks of Mary Magdalene, Rahab, the woman with the alabaster jar…you get the picture.

Sadly, we’ve missed the point.

Highlighting the Samaritan woman’s sin is a both harmful and inaccurate analysis of God’s word. Ultimately, Jesus initiated conversation with her not to just forgive her – but to fulfill her. Jesus asked the woman to give him a drink; not for the purpose of fulfilling his natural thirst, but to spark a conversation that would ultimately fulfill her spiritual thirst. He knew that going from husband to husband was her desperate attempt to quench many longings for intimacy, for validation, for truth, for love – God-given desires, given to us so that we might be led to Him. Thirsts and longings that are not inherently sinful, but that can never be fully satisfied while continuing to live in sin.

Back to the story.

Now, she’s curious. This man, whom she just met, already knows everything she’s done. She must’ve figured, “Well, I’ll at least listen to him!”

Jesus then continues to prophesy of the coming reality of spiritual worship and the promised future when racial, ethnic, and gender divides will cease to exist. Though his words confuse her, she knows there’s truth to them. “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming,” she assured Jesus. “When he comes, he will explain everything to us.”

 Then Jesus declared, “I, the one speaking to you—I am he.”

Could it be true? Yes, yes! He is who He says He is!

She then went into downtown Samaria and told everyone she knew about the man she had met who told her everything she had ever done. And because of her testimony, the Samaritans asked Jesus to stay in their town and teach. He obliged.

The son of God stayed in a forbidden land for two days. “And because of his words many more became believers. They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.” (John 4:41-42)

This fateful, groundbreaking social interaction did not just lead to the forgiveness of one, but of many. Because of her faith, rivers of living water rushed into all of Samaria; quenching the thirst of many. Please – let us not forget this part of the story.

The Woman at the Well is not the woman with five husbands. Sure, when Jesus met her, that was her identity.

But after she encountered Jesus, she became the woman who brought salvation to Samaria.

Because that’s how powerful an encounter with Jesus can be. 

 

 

“For the Kingdom of God is not a matter of what we eat or drink, but of living a life of goodness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. If you serve Christ with this attitude, you will please God, and others will approve of you, too. So then, let us aim for harmony in the church and try to build each other up.”

 – Romans 14: 17-19

Throughout Romans 14, Paul elaborates on the topic of personal convictions. He encourages us to quietly obey our own personal convictions for the right reasons: to honor God, and to respect those around us – not to not boast of our own ability to hear and obey God. Convictions should direct foster worship to God, not us.

That being said, I do believe that God often blesses us with shareable wisdom hidden within the conviction – and many times, I have been blessed by hearing the convictions of others!

Here is a conviction God has given me recently. Please know that this is where I’m at, and this is what God is teaching me right now.  If you relate, cool. If not, that’s cool too.

Also: remember that God loves you with an everlasting love. Remember that every day.

Okay, so back to the conviction:

At the beginning of 2018, I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me to fast from social media until further notice: specifically, by deactivating my Facebook account and deleting Instagram from my phone. Though my previous social media fasts have yielded positive results, I was more hesitant this time around for one main reason:

I would be fasting on my birthday.

Birthdays make Facebook fun. Facebook makes birthdays fun. I couldn’t imagine turning 26 without endless Facebook notifications throughout the day validating my earthly existence. Plus, Facebook helps us remember other people’s birthdays. By disabling Facebook’s omniscient cyber nagging to remind my friends and family of what day it is…who will actually remember my birthday?

What if no one remembers my birthday?

Ugh. Okay, Jesus. I get it now.

So what if no one remembers your birthday? My love will sustain you. I am all you need.

I obeyed, despite the risk of wasting away my first day of 26 anxiously holding a phone void of “Happy Birthday!” dings and offers of free coffee.

But that didn’t happen. As surely as the sun rose, God blessed me. An old friend happened to pass through Atlanta on the morning of my birthday and joined me for breakfast. It was spontaneous, and it was God.

I know that was just the beginning. God has a lot more in store for me during this social media fast. I’m only about one month in, and I’ve already noticed I have significantly more of three invaluable things: Time, Peace, and Creativity.

Allow me to explain.

I have more time. I recently read that the average smartphone user spends 5 hours a day on his or her phone. Five hours a day! As a millenial and ex-Myspace addict, I believe it. I’m prone to mindless scrolling at a red light. It’s in my behavioral DNA.

Less scrolling means more time to read and write. Five more hours of time.

Secondly, I have more peace. My mind is quieter.

Maybe it’s just me, but…have you ever noticed the sensational satisfaction that comes when we share our opinion on social media? Have you yet to experience the rush of successfully proving yourself right in 140 characters or less? It’s addicting. Whether it’s a statement we’ve coined as simple as “Life is _____, go _____”, or, a litany of arguments: we get a rush.

The internet is full of people continually getting high off yelling through their keyboard. And when we mindlessly breathe in the opinions of others without deliberately taking the time to sift through their sentiments to sniff the right from the wrong, we’ve over-clouded our mental space.

In other words: you’ve just read a bunch of stuff. Some words were written by people you can trust, and others by whom you barely know. Their thoughts have manifested into your thoughts.

But you’re not intentionally throwing out the bad thoughts and keeping the good ones. There is no bouncer at this party – they all showed up! Countless voices float around, all speaking at once. Add to that the endless diatribe of our own inner monologues. Plus, the voice of the enemy!

Oh, and somewhere, beneath all of that, is the Holy Spirit.

Seriously? His voice needs to be the only voice I hear!

Less noise, more peace.

And finally, more creativity by way of less comparison. As a 26-year-old female figuring out how to walk by faith, my life doesn’t look like everyone else’s.

And that’s okay. 

I’m sure you can relate. Most of us feel that by this point of our lives, we could’ve and should’ve accomplished more, sinned less, yadda yadda yadda. We scroll past people on Instagram who look like they’ve really got it all together; we wish we had it together too. And just like that, we’ve taken a shot of envy. We’re trapped in comparison and held captive from creativity.

Because, after all, how can I create anything original if I’m continuously comparing myself to another person? Do the jealous ever rest? By analyzing the details of another person’s life – er, just the ones that they choose to share – I do not feel inspired. I feel tired.

Like, literally. Comparison is exhausting, and the Bible says it’s just not wise. Straight up.

So, there you have it. More time to live in the One who holds all time. More peace to dwell in, peace that the world cannot take away. With a mind full of peace, I dwell in divine rest, the place where creativity flows. I write and sing that I might taste and see what no eye has seen and no ear has heard – only what my Heavenly Father has kept just for me.

Thanks for listening to my conviction. Now, again, it’s not for everyone. The benefits of social media have blessed a lot of people. After all, there’s nothing inherently sinful about it. But there’s a lot of sin in my heart; and removing the temptation from my life gave way for the Lord to reveal hidden iniquities and traps that crept in through my news feed. Fasts are really good at revealing things.

Speaking of fasts…Hmmm! Whaddaya know! Today’s not only Valentine’s Day – it is also the beginning of Lent.

Speaking of Lent…

Is God calling you to fast from something?

What is the highlight of your week? Mine is Thursday afternoon, 4pm: songwriting session with my church. It’s a more than welcome mid-week cocoon of creativity, comprised of miscellaneous, beautiful people gathering to pray, read, laugh, drink coffee, challenge one another…and write. The moment I walk into that large, colorful kids’ room and see my faithful friends sitting at a round table; with notebooks and nerves and all, I twirl with glee, shouting: “I AM an artist after all!”

This week, our leader, Tia, assigned us a task. We were to read Psalm 34 and Psalm 36 back-to-back, then spend the next 15 minutes writing a sort of “stream of consciousness” response to the two passages of scripture. She encouraged us to force our fingers to stay on track, writing just one train of thought – and to see where that train takes us.

I know Psalm 34. I had committed the first ten verses to memory about a year ago, during one of my many spells of, “I need to memorize more scripture!” Today, those verses still swim around my mind. And as I revisited the text, they began to resurface. Misconstrued phrases slowly bobbed up and down on the sea of my psyche. I saw them from a distance; I pointed and smiled, feeling good about myself. “Remember that time you memorized this? You do know scripture!” I reassured myself. “Gina, you’re a great Christian.”

Gina, the great Christian, then began reading Psalm 36. Psalm 36 starts like this:

Transgression speaks to the wicked deep in his heart;

there is no fear of God before his eyes.

For he flatters himself in his own eyes, this iniquity cannot be found out and hated.

Ouch.

Fighting against the grain of pride, I kept reading.

I read of God’s steadfast love and His never-ending supply of delight that flows from His fountain of life. I read of His faithfulness. The abundance of His house. The refuge found beneath the shadow of His wings – all things gifted to the righteous.

But as I navigated the narrow literary path documenting the discrepancies between the righteous and the wicked, one question conducted my train of thought:

Which one am I? Am I righteous, or am I wicked?

Because I’ll tell you right know: I can think of a million things that would qualify me as “wicked”, according to the text. I’ve recently questioned God’s faithfulness, though He’s come through for me more than I can count. Does that mean I’m wicked? Hey, just moments before reading, I flattered myself in my own eyes…that means I’m wicked, right?

Well, here’s the thing: I’m wicked without Jesus. Even my good deeds are like filthy rags. Without Jesus.

The Psalm ends with a plea:

Let not the foot of arrogance come upon me,

nor the hand of the wicked drive me away.

There the evildoers lie fallen;

they are thrust down, unable to rise.

I believe the “foot of arrogance” is the pride that comes when we forget that our righteousness is not our own; when we let the world of wickedness convince us that God owes us good things. God doesn’t owe us anything. We do not deserve access to the river of His delights. God died. Now, we owe Him our lives.

My songwriting group? I don’t deserve that. My friendships? Nope. Singing abilities? No way.

It all comes from Him. And forgetting our undeserved favor compromises our souls.

Now, I no longer read Psalm 34 with pride. I read the opening verses with fresh, humbling perspective:

“I will bless the LORD at all times, HIS praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul makes its boast in the LORD, let the humble hear and be glad.”

HIS praise shall continually be in my mouth…not my own!

Lord, forgive me for praising myself more than I praise You. Protect me from the snares of pride. With every song I write, with every victory, with every delight –  I pray You immediately get your glory. Let Your praise continually be on my lips. I love You, Lord. Thank you for dying for me, Jesus. I would not have access to the Father or any of His gifts were it not for your obedience, Jesus. Thank you. I love You.