I’m sitting in the sun today, thinking.

The last few weeks have been awful. I don’t want to elaborate on them. I want to believe they are behind me now. But my body has taken strain.

A doctor once said to me, “You are not a delicate flower. You are tough.”

I laughed at the time, but sometimes I sit with those words and ask, “Lord, if I’m so tough, why does my body need so much attention?”

For most of the last fifteen years, I haven’t been able to eat sugar. It flares up my immune system, so eventually I just stopped eating it altogether. Fizzy drinks went. Chocolate went. Most of the carbs went.

Some people would probably call that a blessing. 😂 Imagine having your doctor basically force you to give up all your guilty little pleasures!

But something interesting happened. After enough time, I stopped missing them.

What once felt like deprivation became normal. And looking back, that discipline taught me so much more than how to live without sugar. It taught me that you actually can live without something you once thought you needed.

And that got me thinking about some other things we hold onto.

Let’s call them “bad habits” today, although if we are completely truthful, some of them are sin.

That little vulgar joke that always seems to slip into the conversation.

The swear word that has become so natural you barely notice it anymore.

The way you bend the truth just enough to make the story work in your favour.

The sharp little answer you give your husband or wife because you’re irritated.

The gossip disguised as concern. The attitude. The bitterness.

The conversation you know you shouldn’t keep entertaining. Little habits.

Pastor Jan said something today that initially sounded incredibly bold to me:

“Don’t make God take things away from you forcefully. He doesn’t want to, but He will for your protection.”

WOW.

That sat with me. Because I remember when my body became sick and suddenly so many things I considered “normal life” had to go. I felt like an outcast at times. Why could everybody else have it, but I couldn’t?

And then I remembered another season when God dealt with me in almost exactly the same way, except emotionally.

There were relationships and environments I desperately wanted to keep. And somewhere deep inside, I knew God had been warning me: This is no longer good for you.

But instead of surrendering, I questioned Him. Why me, Lord? Why must I walk away?Why can’t they be removed? Why must I change?

Years later, I found myself with almost no friends around me. And if I’m fair to God, He had warned me.

We sometimes test the boundaries of grace because we know God is loving. We keep touching the thing He told us to leave alone. We keep returning to the conversation He convicted us about. We keep defending the habit because “it’s not that bad.”

Yet Scripture says:

“For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God.” (Deu 4:24)

His jealousy is not petty insecurity. God wants our hearts wholly His. And here is what strikes me most: God could have created creatures that obey Him automatically.

But He wanted sons and daughters. He wants surrender. He wants the offering. He wants my time. My ordinary Tuesday. My worries.

My conversations, so He can purify them. My body, so I can honour Him with it. My thoughts. My friendships. My habits. My private life.

The things nobody else sees. He wants me to willingly place myself before Him and say, “This belongs to You too.” Because we were created for His glory.

“Everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.” (Isa 43:7)

And maybe that is the question sitting with me in the sun today: Does the way I live still bring Him joy?

Not just my worship on Sunday. Not just my ministry. Not just the things people see.

Does my conversation bring Him joy? Does my attitude at home bring Him joy?

Does the way I speak to my husband bring Him joy?

Do my private thoughts bring Him joy?

Do the little habits I have protected and excused bring Him joy?

Because perhaps surrendering something willingly is far less painful than holding onto it until God, in His mercy, has to show us why it cannot come where He is taking us.

I know what it is to have things removed. And I also know now that some of the things I once mourned losing were actually mercy.

So if you find yourself sitting with me today, wondering whether your life, your worship, your habits and your heart still bring Him joy, pray this with me:

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.” (Psalm 139:23) Lord, investigate my heart. Go into the places I have avoided. Expose what I have excused.

Take away what is not from You. Give me the courage to surrender it willingly before I have to learn through losing it.

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10)

Purify my conversations.

Purify my motives.

Purify my habits.

Purify my relationships.

Purify my thoughts.

Wash me.

“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” (Isaiah 1:18 )

I don’t want to simply look clean before people. I want to bring You joy when nobody is watching. Everything I am is Yours. Even the little things

Love

V.L