When I was a kid, I had a marble notebook where I wrote everything down: my thoughts, songs, poems, and, most importantly, the words of others that meant something to me. I've always believed words carry tremendous power, and choosing them wisely is a gift.
I can also admit that I haven't always chosen mine wisely. There are conversations I still replay in my head, wondering whether my words lifted someone up or broke their spirit, wishing I could go back and say things differently. But I can't. Our choices have consequences, and while we can learn from them, we can't always undo what has been done.
As a disciple of Jesus, I know the Lord is with me even when I have to face the consequences of my own choices. So rather than remain stuck in regret, I want to document what I'm learning along the way. And one lesson in particular has been teaching me a great deal:
In order to become, you have to be undone.
Have you ever found yourself in a conversation, confronted with something about yourself, only to hear the words, "See, I am the kind of person..." come out of your mouth? Well, that was me!
Before I could even consider what someone was telling me, I'd start explaining why I do what I do or say what I say. And listen, there are reasons behind our behaviors. Our experiences shape us, our circumstances affect us, and our personalities influence how we respond to the world. But I've had to learn that understanding why I do something isn't the same as acknowledging that something needs to change.
Once I became aware of this habit, I became hyperaware of it. Every time I heard myself begin that sentence, it was as if a little sign appeared in front of me saying, "But you're being undone! That is not the way, Dinah."
And let me tell you, being undone is not always comfortable.
It's one thing to recognize a fault in someone else. It's another to have something brought to your attention and realize that you're the one who needs to take a closer look. Suddenly, all those explanations you were ready to offer don't seem nearly as important as they did before.
I've had to ask myself some difficult questions. Am I more concerned with explaining why I said something than considering how it affected someone else? Am I so busy trying to get someone to understand my intentions that I'm missing what I need to learn? And how often do I use the words "that's just how I am" to defend a part of myself that God may be asking me to surrender?
Those questions aren't easy, especially when you know your heart and never intended to hurt anyone. But good intentions don't mean we have nothing to learn. We can mean well and still need to grow.
Sometimes we become so accustomed to explaining ourselves that we forget to examine ourselves. We want to become more patient, gentle, thoughtful, and like Jesus, but when someone points out the very things standing in the way of that growth, we want to defend them. We want the benefits of becoming without the discomfort of being undone.
But how can we grow in an area we refuse to acknowledge?
In Psalm 139:23–24, David asks the Lord to search his heart, know his thoughts, and reveal anything in him that needs to be addressed. There's something humbling about inviting God to do that. It means being willing to see what's there, even when it's not what we hoped to find.
And I'm learning that being undone is not the same as being condemned. It doesn't mean despising who I am or beating myself up over every mistake. It means being honest about where I am without insisting I must remain there.
God's grace doesn't give me permission to ignore what needs to change. It gives me the freedom to face it without believing my failures have the final word.
I can't go back and change every conversation I regret or retrieve every word that should never have left my mouth. But I can learn to pause before speaking, listen instead of immediately defending myself, and consider what someone is saying without treating every correction as an attack on who I am. When I get it wrong, I can take responsibility, ask for forgiveness, and keep moving forward.
That is part of becoming.
I'm still learning. I still have moments when I want to explain myself, and I still have conversations I wish I could redo. But I'm learning to pay attention to those moments instead of repeating the same patterns and calling them my personality.
Perhaps there's something in your own life you've spent years explaining. Maybe a habit, a response, or a way of thinking has become so familiar that you've accepted it as simply who you are. But what if acknowledging it isn't an invitation to live under shame? What if it's an opportunity to grow?
We don't have to pretend we have it all together to walk faithfully with the Lord. We simply have to be willing to let Him show us where we need Him and respond to what He reveals.
I want to become more like Jesus, and that means I can't hold so tightly to every part of myself that I refuse to let Him change me. Sometimes the very thing I want to defend is the thing I need to surrender. Sometimes growth begins when I stop explaining myself long enough to listen. And sometimes the most valuable lesson comes when I finally admit I was wrong.
So the next time I hear myself saying, "See, I am the kind of person..." I hope I remember that I am not required to remain the kind of person I have always been.
By the grace of God, I can learn. I can grow. I can change.
In order to become, I have to be willing to be undone.
And that is a lesson I want to keep writing down. 🖤