Chapter 12: Restored, Renewed, Still Becoming

“He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.” Psalm 23:3 (KJV)

We've talked about surrender before.

We've talked about abiding.

We've talked about knowing who we are in Christ and learning to trust God with the places we cannot control.

Those truths have carried us through the earlier parts of this discipleship journey, and they've followed us here too.

Because these aren't separate lessons we learn once and leave behind.

They build upon each other.

We learn to trust God.

We learn to abide in Him.

We learn to grow from what He's filling us with.

And here, we've allowed Him into some of the places that hurt.

The wounds.

The fear.

The shame.

The regret.

The grief.

The things we couldn't change.

The things we wished we could undo.

The things other people did.

The things we did.

We've looked at how pain can change what we see. How wounds can affect what we believe about ourselves. How two hurting people can unintentionally feed each other's wounds. How something another person carried can become something we begin carrying too.

And again and again, we've returned to the same place:

Christ.

Trust Him.

Abide in Him.

Let Him tell us who we are.

Let Him heal what hurts.

Let Him correct what needs correcting.

Let Him carry what was never ours to hold.

And follow Him into whatever comes next.

Maybe You Thought Healing Would Look Different

Maybe when you began, you imagined healing would mean no longer feeling anything about what happened.

No sadness.

No anger.

No memories.

No triggers.

No questions.

Maybe you thought forgiveness would mean never thinking about the offense again.

Maybe surrender would mean praying once and never picking the burden back up.

Maybe restored relationships would look exactly like they did before.

Maybe being restored would mean becoming the person you were before everything happened.

But perhaps restoration looks different.

Maybe you still remember, but the memory doesn't own you.

Maybe something still makes you sad, but sadness doesn't become your identity.

Maybe you forgive and later discover another piece that needs surrender.

Maybe a relationship never returns, and you still have peace.

Maybe the scar remains, but the wound isn't open anymore.

Maybe you never become who you were before because Christ is forming someone new.

Ransomed

Before we ever talked about what needed healing, something had already been settled.

Your value.

You were worth pursuing before you got everything right.

Before you healed.

Before you understood.

Before you became useful.

Before you served.

Before you proved anything.

“For ye are bought with a price...” 1 Corinthians 6:20 (KJV)

Ransomed.

We learned that we can be cherished before we could ever become useful.

Before anyone else knew us, God knew.

Before we could love Him, He loved us.

Before we could bring something to His table, there was already a place for us.

Maybe that's where healing had to begin.

Not:

How do I become worthy?

But:

Can I receive that I was already loved?

Redeemed

Redemption doesn't mean everything that happened was good.

Some things weren't.

Some things were painful.

Some things were sinful.

Some things should never have happened.

Some things we wish we'd done differently.

Redemption doesn't call evil good.

It says evil doesn't get the final word.

Failure doesn't get the final word.

Loss doesn't get the final word.

Another person's choices don't get the final word.

Our choices don't get the final word either.

God can enter places we thought were wasted and refuse to waste them.

He can take something that taught us fear and eventually produce wisdom.

Something that produced shame and teach us grace.

Something that exposed weakness and teach us dependence.

Something that wounded us and eventually make us more compassionate toward someone else's wound.

Not because the wound was good.

Because God is.

Restored

Restoration is where God begins healing what happened inside us because of what happened around us.

The memory may remain.

But shame doesn't have to.

The experience may remain part of our history.

But fear doesn't have to interpret everything that happens next.

Someone may have rejected us.

But rejection doesn't have to become our identity.

We may have failed.

But failure doesn't have to become our name.

Someone else's insecurity may have been projected onto us.

We don't have to keep carrying it.

We may have learned to control, people please, withdraw, chase, rescue, overfunction, protect, or perform.

But something making sense because of our history doesn't mean it has to direct our future.

Christ can heal the place that made the pattern necessary.

That's restoration.

Renewed

Then something beautiful begins happening.

God doesn't only remove.

He grows.

Where fear governed, trust can begin growing.

Where bitterness lived, compassion.

Where shame lived, humility and grace.

Where control lived, surrender.

Where people pleasing lived, genuine kindness.

Where hypervigilance lived, discernment.

Where self protection built walls, wisdom can build gates.

Where we needed to be needed, we can learn to serve freely.

Where receiving love felt dangerous, we can begin opening our hands.

Where correction felt like rejection, we can become teachable.

Where failure felt final, we learn to get back up.

Renewal says:

I don't have to keep doing what the wound taught me to do.

There is another way.

Surrender. Abide. Obey.

Maybe if we had to reduce much of this journey to three movements, they would be these.

Surrender.

What am I carrying that belongs to God?

Give it to Him.

The outcome.

The person.

The question.

The thing we cannot undo.

The future we cannot control.

The debt we cannot collect.

The reputation we cannot completely manage.

The child we cannot make choose correctly.

The person we cannot heal.

Surrender.

Abide.

Stay.

Don't give something to God and then immediately run away trying to manage everything again.

Remain connected.

Pray.

Listen.

Open His Word.

Receive His love.

Let Him correct you.

Let Him comfort you.

Let Him remind you who you are.

“Abide in me, and I in you.” John 15:4 (KJV)

Then:

Obey.

What is actually yours to do?

Do that.

Tell the truth.

Apologize.

Forgive.

Set the boundary.

Ask the question.

Wait.

Speak.

Rest.

Get help.

Show up.

Take the next faithful step.

Then surrender the outcome again.

Maybe that's not only a healing process.

Maybe that's simply what walking with God looks like.

You May Pick Something Back Up

You probably will.

Something you surrendered may suddenly be in your hands again.

You may realize you're worrying, planning, replaying, trying to control, trying to fix, trying to make someone understand.

That doesn't mean everything you've learned disappeared.

Maybe you simply noticed sooner.

That's growth too.

Put it back down.

God, I picked this up again.

Here.

Maybe tomorrow you do it again.

And eventually something that once took months to recognize takes days.

Then hours.

Maybe one day you recognize the familiar weight almost immediately.

I know this.

This doesn't belong in my hands.

And you release it.

Again.

You May Fall Again

You probably will.

Maybe you respond from fear.

Say something badly.

Misunderstand.

Run ahead.

Become defensive.

Overextend yourself.

Try to rescue someone.

Let insecurity speak louder than truth.

Then what?

Get back up.

“For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again...” Proverbs 24:16 (KJV)

Maybe we've spent too much time defining victory as never falling.

Christ already has the victory.

Our responsibility is to keep turning toward Him.

Repent when repentance is needed.

Make amends where appropriate.

Receive correction.

Learn.

Get up.

Walk.

The story isn't over because you stumbled.

You Cannot Ruin God's Story

Your choices matter.

Our choices affect people.

Sin has consequences.

Obedience matters.

Wisdom matters.

What we do with what God gives us matters.

But God is still God.

We aren't powerful enough to make Him stop being sovereign.

Maybe that's where some of the pressure can finally leave.

We don't have to perfectly orchestrate everything.

We aren't writing God's story.

We're being invited into it.

Our lives aren't meaningless because they're ordinary.

They aren't meaningful because we made them impressive either.

They have meaning because they belong to Him.

Maybe that's freedom.

I don't have to make my life into something worthy of God's story.

By grace, He invited me into His.

The Water May Already Be Waiting

I keep thinking about that Sunday morning.

Sitting in front of the mirror.

Three last names under one roof.

Five children.

Two marriages.

Two divorces.

Feeling the weight of what I thought those facts said about me.

Then God reminded me:

My children were known before I knew them.

They were cherished.

Purposed.

Entrusted to me.

And that same morning, my shy little boy sat beside me in church.

Asked questions.

Wanted to talk to the pastor.

Wanted to be baptized.

We didn't plan it.

We didn't bring clothes.

There wasn't a baptism planned during our service.

But the baptismal had already been prepared from the earlier service.

The water was already waiting.

Before I knew what God was doing, He was already doing it.

Before I knew what my son was thinking, God was already stirring his heart.

Before I saw the next step, provision for it was already there.

Maybe that's a picture worth carrying forward.

You may not know what God is doing yet.

You may be sitting in front of your own mirror seeing everything you wish looked different.

You may be staring at a chapter that doesn't make sense.

You may be wondering how God could possibly redeem something.

You may be waiting.

But God's provision doesn't begin when we finally notice it.

Sometimes the water is already waiting.

Your Story Isn't Finished

Maybe you don't know what comes next.

That's okay.

You don't need the entire story.

You need the next faithful step.

Maybe God is restoring something.

Maybe He's pruning.

Maybe He's asking you to wait.

Maybe He's teaching you to receive.

Maybe He's asking you to release.

Maybe something new is beginning.

Maybe nothing looks different yet.

But if you're abiding, you're not standing still.

Roots grow where nobody sees them.

And eventually fruit comes.

Restoration Was Never the End

Through this journey, we've asked:

What hurt?

What am I carrying?

What did I begin believing because of what happened?

What needs truth?

What needs forgiveness?

What needs surrender?

What needs healing?

But these truths didn't begin here.

We've already learned that peace comes before the promise when we trust God.

We've learned that we have to abide in Christ rather than trying to produce everything from ourselves.

And we've begun seeing that what God does inside us eventually changes what grows from us.

Each truth builds upon the one before it.

Trust God.

Know God.

Grow in Christ.

Stand on His truth.

Experience His healing.

And restoration isn't the end of that progression.

Because once God begins healing what's inside us, another question naturally follows:

What is He growing there now?

The Heart of Becoming

Jesus said:

“He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit...” John 15:5 (KJV)

Abide.

Then fruit.

Maybe restoration prepares ground that has been wounded.

But Christ doesn't heal the soil so it can remain empty.

Something is supposed to grow.

Love.

Joy.

Peace.

Longsuffering.

Gentleness.

Goodness.

Faith.

Meekness.

Temperance.

The fruit of the Spirit.

Maybe now the question isn't only:

What am I healing from?

Maybe it's:

Who am I becoming as I remain in Christ?

What is shaping my heart?

What am I allowing to fill me?

What comes out when life presses against me?

What kind of person is Christ forming where fear once lived?

That's the next journey.

Ransomed. Redeemed. Restored. Renewed.

Maybe now those words look different than they did at the beginning.

Ransomed.

I was worth coming for.

Redeemed.

My story isn't wasted.

Restored.

My wounds don't have to govern me.

Renewed.

Christ is growing something new.

And still...

I'm becoming.

Not because what Christ did was incomplete.

Because relationship with Him is alive.

We're still walking.

Still learning.

Still being corrected.

Still receiving.

Still surrendering.

Still bearing fruit.

Still becoming more like Him.

Before We Keep Walking

Maybe don't ask:

Am I completely healed?

Maybe ask:

Am I closer to Christ?

Can I recognize what I'm carrying sooner?

Can I tell the difference between fear and truth more clearly?

Can I receive correction without immediately becoming ashamed?

Can I forgive without pretending?

Can I establish boundaries without hatred?

Can I recognize when someone else's wound is trying to become mine?

Can I take responsibility for my own wounds without condemning myself?

Can I receive love more freely?

Can I give without keeping score?

Can I let someone else be disappointed without abandoning myself?

Can I experience disappointment without controlling someone else?

Can I get back up when I fall?

Can I trust God with an ending I didn't choose?

Can I look backward and see more than the wound?

Can I see Him there too?

Maybe those are signs of restoration.

Not perfection.

Freedom.

And Maybe This Is the Prayer

God,

Thank You for loving me before I knew how to love You.

Thank You for knowing me before anyone else knew I was here.

Thank You for coming for me.

For staying when I ran.

For correcting me without abandoning me.

For forgiving me.

For showing me what belongs to me and what doesn't.

For carrying what I was never strong enough to carry.

Search me.

Show me what still needs healing.

Show me where fear is still speaking.

Show me where shame is still naming me.

Show me where someone else's wound became something I started carrying.

Show me what I have passed forward that needs to stop with me.

Help me forgive.

And Father, forgive those who hurt me too.

Heal them.

Bless them with truth, repentance, freedom, and whatever draws them closer to You.

I don't need them destroyed for me to be restored.

Teach me to receive Your love.

Teach me to give through You.

Teach me to receive through You.

Teach me to surrender.

Teach me to abide.

Teach me to obey.

And when I fall, teach me to reach for Your hand and get back up.

Restore what needs restoring.

Renew what needs renewing.

And grow in me what looks like You.

I don't need to know every page ahead.

I just want to walk with You through the one You've given me today.

In Jesus' name,

Amen.

“He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.” Psalm 23:3 (KJV)

“We love him, because he first loved us.” 1 John 4:19 (KJV)

Ransomed. Redeemed. Restored. Renewed.

And still becoming.