I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26)
The hope of renewal. The promise of a changed heart. Wow, I love the sound of that.
Especially if that transformed heart is in the neighbor you don’t like. Or in the employer that acts more like a dictator than a democrat. Or in the family member that drives you up a wall.
I used to bring God a laundry list of changes I wanted to see in other people. And sprinkled in, I’d ask for wisdom or patience or whatever biblical buzzword came to mind. Yes, my prayer life was a bit shallow.
It wasn’t until a few years ago, when I felt stuck in the throes of early motherhood, that I started praying differently.
I didn’t do this out of some Holy Spirit revelation. Instead, I got so tired of allowing my joy (or lack thereof) to be dictated by my environment and the emotions of those around me.
Instead of praying for the people around me to change, I started praying for my own heart to change. To gain wisdom and patience. To increase my faith. To love well. To understand.
This change in my prayer life loosened my grip enough to hand the keys to my heart over to God. It was then that God went to work – giving me a new heart and putting in me a new spirit, just as He promised.
This small yet significant act helped me to remember that the battles were not against flesh and blood – that is, against the people in my life. The real battles were happening in the spiritual world. The person I was in conflict with wasn’t my enemy. In fact, the conflict itself was, in many ways, a mask hiding the spiritual brokenness and warfare that aimed to pin one child of God against another.
Sure, I’ll still take God up on changing the hearts of the people around me. After all, praying for others is always a good idea, and who doesn’t like the sound of transformation? But the sound of those chains breaking as my renewed heart is freed from its own brokenness? Now THAT’S something I could get used to hearing.
And that’s the mid-week memo.
Wholeheartedly, Katie
