The Grace Street Blog

“Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” – Hebrews 11:1

This week I hungered for something new. Something that has always been a thought but never a hunger that caused me pain because I lived in the absence of it.

Community. Not people to brush shoulders with or voices to fill silence, but true, honest, life-giving friendships.

As an introvert, I never thought I would see the day where I felt grief because of the silence of my own company. Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of fun by myself, but a hunger has been growing in me lately that isn’t satisfied by the lack of opportunity to live out the call God gave us. The call to love His people. To go out and make disciples. To serve the lowly. For every minute alone, I lose a minute I could be sharing this love God overflows me with.

In full transparency, it brought me to tears the other night. Some from great sorrow and some from awe-struck joy. I find myself battling hopelessness regarding the satisfaction of this hunger as it has rarely been something I’ve ever experienced for longer than a few months. But despite the anger I felt at myself for wanting something I believed I would never have, I was filled with joy and thanksgiving.

The more I sat with those feelings, the more I realized they weren’t evidence that something was wrong with me. No, they were evidence that God had already begun changing what my heart desired.

For years, I have felt like an outcast and so very uncomfortable in public settings. Yet as I sat and tried to calm my hunger for community, I couldn’t help but find myself praising God. Praising Him for changing my heart in a way I never thought I would see.

“Make my heart more like yours, burden it for what burdens yours.” is a prayer I often make. Nearly every single day. Because as much as I love Jesus, there is so much about me that loves the world and myself still.

With masks like calling myself shy, introverted, or independent, my heart grew hard towards any sort of change regarding the bonds I would ever build with others. It protected me from getting hurt, feeling disappointed, and the pain of having to say goodbye. Or at least I thought it would.

But isn’t our life here for the sake of God’s glory and love being revealed to others? To share moments of life-giving, God-honoring, selfless words and actions?

My soul doesn’t long for others because I am lonely. It longs for bonds with others that exemplify the harmony God intended us to have before sin ruined us all, leaving us so self-centered and hyperfixated on personal success.

Though I call it a war in me, I could not be more excited. I write this as a witness of the power of our transforming God. The God who softens hearts, teaches forgiveness, disassembles emotional walls, and refocuses our scattered mind on the things that truly matter.

It is still a war within me. My flesh continues to seek comfort in isolation while the Holy Spirit leads me toward the people God loves. But this is a battle I am okay with, because it reminds me that God is working in me. “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1). Though I cannot yet see the fullness of what God is doing, I trust the Spirit is faithfully transforming my heart.

With confidence in my God who freed us from the chains of sin, I have hope I will see Him instill in me a heart more like Christ. Not because of anything I am or can do, but because of the power of the resurrection.

That power changes us in ways we didn’t know leads us towards our true purpose.

Because of what Jesus did for us and why He did it, we have the ability to walk in a new truth. A truth that we are no longer slaves to shame or sin, but redeemed and made whole by God.

The longer I tell myself I will never see the day where God can change my selfish nature (or any thing about me that is not like Him), I am diminishing Him and His love.

Because He sees us as “Beloved”, He took our place on the cross. Because we are Beloved, we are invited into His family. Being Beloved means that we have a place to belong and a purpose to live out without being judged by our sinful ways.

His love drove Him to save us. And His love was offered well before we could ever do enough to begin earning it.

Perhaps you are too awkward, quiet, or shy like myself. Maybe those are the names you began believing determined your identity and worth because of how often others labeled you as those. So when the task God asks of us requires stepping out of those comfort (“comfortable” yet oh so damaging) zones, I wouldn’t blame you if it was hard to believe change was possible in the future.

And let me be clear, I am not talking about changing from being a quiet or shy person. Those are no sins. I am speaking to the ones who let those labels define them and limit their ability to obey God in choosing to love Him and His people above ourselves.

Ann Voskamp says, “Maybe all the brokenhearted don’t need to try to believe more in themselves, but to believe what Jesus says about them more.”

My dear friend, whether you battle with isolation like myself, or you allow something totally different to prevent you from going out and intentionally loving others, nothing has the power to stop God from transforming your heart when you leave yourself available to Him. There is hope we can be sure of because of who our God is. He is patient in our confusion and doubts and He is abundant in love and grace when we are empty and hopeless. Lean on the One who offers the only path to true life, including the parts of your heart you’ve already given up on, for He breathes life into those way beyond yourself.

Thoughts to Consider:

What part of your heart have you quietly believed will never change?

What comfort or fear keeps you from loving others the way Christ has called you to?

How is God inviting you to step beyond comfort and into deeper love for Him and others?

Consider the greatest miracle may not be that God changes your circumstances, but that He changes your heart within them.

“Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” – Hebrews 11:1