As she declined an opportunity because she felt unworthy, unqualified, her heart broke.
She cried out—
“Lord, you said you removed my sin as far as the east is from the west. You said it. You promised. Why does it still hurt? Why do I feel trapped in the past?”


Painful reminders of the past can feel like a plague.

A plague that eats away at our hearts, our hope.

A plague that shames.

A plague that destroys.

A plague that steals.

And make no mistake, the enemy certainly loves working behind the scenes to eat away … to make us feel there is no hope for the future. “You did this … how do you think you can be this …? You’ve not changed. You are nothing.”

It feels like a loss of—


Every false feeling goes against God’s every truth.

Regardless of the pain, when we cry out to God in true repentance, we are forgiven.

We must remind ourselves … God is working a new creation in us, but that doesn’t wipe away the memory, ours nor others. But God can use any critter, any enemy, anything, anyone, to work that new creation in us. He is the Potter, we are the clay, and He molds and shapes us, in His own way. Chiseling, whittling away. 

The past—that plague—can be used to shape our futures.

That painful reminder may be God’s perpetual renewing.

We are hopeful creations in full process progress.

“For we live by faith, not by sight.” —2 Corinthians 5:7

“I will repay you for the years the locusts<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-22337CC" value="(CC)”> have eaten<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-22337CD" value="(CD)”>—the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm—my great army<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-22337CE" value="(CE)”> that I sent among you. You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-22338CG" value="(CG)”> the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-22338CH" value="(CH)”> for you; never again will my people be shamed.” —Joel 2:25,26

My uncle whittled this for me out of old depot wooda building that had been torn down.
The old, seemingly hopeless, becomes … a new creation, a keepsake, a treasured possession.

2 thoughts on “Progress

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