Plastic gods. Pretending. Shame. OH MY!
- Summer
- Sep 28
- 3 min read
“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” – John 8:32
Ladies, let me just disclose something upfront. I wrote last week’s post before I actually started reading the book Anything by Jennie Allen. And let me tell you—I was a little more optimistic then. ;)
If you are looking for a book to throw across the room, maybe out the window, or highlight the heck out of, may I suggest our Bible study book this season: Anything.
Okay, on to my post...
Chapter 1? Manageable.
Chapter 2? A massive soul check. The kind that makes you pause, squirm a little, and realize God’s not just skimming the surface—He’s digging deep.
Chapter 3? Oh my. There’s always that chapter—the one that gets you right between the ribs.
So there I was—vigorously texting my mom and sister, sending funny gifs,
venting my frustration—when the Lord whispered something painfully simple:
These are the doors I want to open for you. The closets you’ve stuffed full of things you’d rather pretend aren’t there. The messy corners you’ve kept hidden. I want them open. Because this is the weight you’ve carried for so long—but it’s the very weight I already covered for you.
THE BACKPACK LESSON
A couple of weeks ago, we backpacked through Catalina—40 miles, four days, with over 30 pounds strapped to my back.
Day one? Awful. My shoulders screamed, my hips bruised, and my back ached with every step. It was clunky, awkward, and heavy, and it slowed me down so badly that even my pride wanted to quit.
Day two wasn’t easier—my body just learned how to tolerate it.
And by Day three? I was so used to carrying the weight that I didn’t even want to take it off anymore. It felt easier to stay under the pressure than to unbuckle the straps and risk putting it right back on again.
And isn’t that exactly what we do in life? We carry shame, regret, unforgiveness, disappointment, and self-hatred. At first, it feels unbearable, but over time, we normalize it. We start to think the ache is just part of us.
But that weight is costing us. It bruises us. It reshapes our posture. It slows us down. It keeps us from moving forward. And worst of all, it tricks us into believing heaviness is normal.
But heaviness is not holy. Pretending is not peace. Carrying it all ourselves is not a strength.
The freedom isn’t in adjusting to the weight. The freedom is finally unbuckling the straps, setting it all down, and refusing to pick it back up again.
THE MAKEOVER
And here’s what I love: Jesus doesn’t just take the backpack off and say, Good luck!
He walks right into the house of my heart. He flings open the closet doors I’ve kept locked, drags out the junk I’ve been pretending away, and gives me the ultimate makeover—one no human hands could ever do.
It’s a transformation that starts deep within, reshaping me from the inside out.
When the weight is lifted and the house is cleaned, there’s finally space. Space for peace. Space for joy. Space for Him.
And that, my friends, is exactly what this study is already doing for me. It’s forcing me to look at the heaviness I’ve carried and the closets I’ve closed off, and it’s reminding me that Jesus has already covered it.
So here’s to the journey we’re on together in Anything—unbuckling straps, opening doors, and letting God give us the kind of soul-makeover that only He can.
See you in the next chapters!
My Prayer:
Jesus,
You see the weight I’ve carried on my back and the clutter I’ve hidden in my heart. Thank You that You don’t leave me there. You lift the heavy straps that bruise my shoulders, and You step into the messy rooms I’d rather keep closed. Take the load I’ve grown too used to, sweep out the clutter I’ve pretended away, and give me the kind of makeover only You can do—one that leaves me lighter, freer, and filled with
Your peace. Amen
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