Release

The first few days of freedom from the music I threw out have been fantastic. I've barely thought about it at all. I've replaced it with film scores, hymns, classical pieces, and the occasional downloaded lecture. I've also picked up embroidery again to give my hands something to do, as I'm more able to think about two things at once.

Little by little, I feel the Holy Spirit convicting me. Things come to mind that I hadn't thought of before, and I feel contentment coming. However, there is unrest as well.

For one thing, I'm increasingly conflicted denominationally speaking. I pray that God will lead me to the path He intends me to follow.

And for another, my eyes have been opened to just how shaky the ground my family is on is. It feels like the house built on sand, and the rains loom on the horizon. I am constantly in prayer that God will use me to change the hearts of my parents from devotion to the world to devotion to Him. But the New Age "church" my mother attends is poisonous, and Jay goes to a "Christian" college that teaches some of the most corrupt doctrine I've ever heard and is littered with incompetant teachers. Needless to say, it does nothing for his opinion of conservative doctrine.

It is a daunting task that cuts to the very foundations of faith. It would be hard enough if my parents were strong, but merely misguided, Catholics or Protestants. But it runs deeper than that. Before I can even begin to convince them of the roles of men and women or God's design for the family, I have to convince them that the Word of God as handed down through generations is not the fabrications of a cartel of rich old men, nor is it irrelevant in the modern world.

It's not something I can do on my own strength, I know. I pray about often during the day.

But no matter what, I remind myself that He is sovereign. And I am more likely to win hearts for Him by going about my duties cheerfully than I am through any theological tirade.