When Old Lies Return

To my beloved friend,

Though I have not written in some time, I return with gladness in my heart. Yet I would not be honest if I did not tell you that the last few months have been unsettled ones. There are seasons when the past, though buried, attempts to rise again.

It was not a loud return. It rarely is.

It came in quiet whispers — in moments of stillness — in passing thoughts that sounded strangely familiar. The enemy has a subtle way of sowing unrest in the mind, for he knows that if a lie is rehearsed long enough, it begins to sound like truth.

I began to remember words once spoken over me: You are not good enough.
You will never make it.
Some of those words came from outside our home. Some, painfully, from within it.

And though years have passed, there was a moment when those old phrases knocked again at the door of my heart.

I remember when I was first introduced to Jesus. I did not doubt His existence — I doubted His willingness. How could someone so holy draw near to someone so fractured? Surely His love was reserved for the whole, the disciplined, the worthy.

I thought perhaps I had come too late. Or too damaged.

But that was where I was wrong.

He did not come for the polished. He came for the wounded.
He did not stretch out His hands toward the deserving, but toward the desperate.

The cross was not a reward for the righteous. It was mercy for the broken.

It was there I learned that His perfection was not meant to intimidate me — it was meant to cover me. His righteousness was not a standard I must achieve, but a gift I was invited to receive.

Though I will never be perfect in this life, I am no longer defined by the accusations that once shaped me. The love of a sinless Man opened His arms, drew me near, and silenced every lie with something stronger — truth.

And now He dwells within me.

Not to condemn.
Not to rehearse my failures.
But to teach me, steady me, and cause me to flourish in what is real.

Old whispers may still attempt to return. But they no longer have authority here.

His perfection was never meant to intimidate me, but to cover me.

Love, Virtue

In the Margins:

Reflect: What words from your past still attempt to shape how you see yourself?

Read: John 8:31-32; Romans 8:1; 2 Corinthians 5:17

Listen (Optional): How Our Beliefs Are Formed — Ep. 122

Practice: Write down one lie you have believed about yourself. Beside it, write a Scripture that speaks truth over it. Revisit it this week in prayer.

If this reflection stirred something in you, we would love to hear from you. Feel free to reach out.