After two and a half months since my last post where I said I’d be writing a lot more, here we are.

I have found myself, or rather my heart, within the confines of a cement wall of pride and resolute stubbornness that I was never oblivious to, but too blinded by my own will to acknowledge. In my head, the progress that I have been making towards “being better” is much more profound than it is in reality. I have allowed myself to be tricked into thinking that whatever improvements I have been seeing in my daily life are monumental (and I suddenly hear my wife saying, “Why do you have to use the word ‘monumental?’ Maybe try something like ‘moderate’ or ‘slightly noticeable’…” I’m joking because she tends to think that I’m at one extreme or the other, and that I struggle to remain in the in-between.

On that note, I have begun to feel a great tug at my heart that my polarized nature does not have as positive of an impact on my life as I forced myself to believe it did.

“The root produces the fruit” is what my Pastor, Louie Giglio, at Passion City Church emphasized in his message yesterday and after having pondered that over the past thirty-six hours and also sharing it with my counselor, came to the conclusion that this was a key element to the next season of my life. The question she posed to me to work through between meetings was:

What will pour out of me (or what roots are in me and what fruit will they produce?) 

Louie also mentioned this: “Happiness is an emotion based on circumstances and outcome. Joy is gratitude rooted in grace no matter the circumstances.” I feel that the roots that I’ve planted in my life resemblant of the external angst and frustration and fear and, and, and… Where is the roots that I designed by God to have, like patience and self-control, grace, gentleness and all the other wonderful things I should be?

This is my 100,000th attempt at my first baby step into changing, but not “changing” on my own. I realize that I can’t do this in my own strength and I’m done trying. Here’s the beginning of trying to let go of trying to do things on my own.