Rigid

Rigid.
That's the word someone used to describe me years ago.
He hoped it wouldn't offend me.  I took it as a compliment. at the time.

In case you haven't already figured this out (maybe I'm the only one who hadn't),
I am a wretched human being- selfish, arrogant, and unloving.  If I've ever served or loved anyone it was either a front to improve my image or a merciful gift from God.  I'm not saying this out of obligation.  I'm not compelled out of humility.  I'm relating a brutally honest self-realization.

Abigail means "the joy of her father."  I lost joy a long, long time ago, gradually.  As pride grew, joy withered.  You know that C.S. Lewis analogy of a heart locked in a box?  Yup.  I want to be perfect and  the farthest thing from vulnerable.  Nothing gets in the way of the person I present myself to be.
Whelp.  That doesn't fly with God.  And frankly, it's never caused me to fly either.  It's trapped me.

I want my heart to break for what breaks the heart of God.
I want His freedom.
I want to be His joy.



I am a great sinner, but He is a great Savior.
Hallelujah.