Father, in the mighty name of Jesus, I refuse to treat Your grace casually. Break every chain of sin in my life. Expose every lie my flesh has believed. Give me a holy hatred for sin and a fierce love for righteousness. Strengthen me by Your Spirit to reject every temptation and stand boldly for Your truth. Jesus, thank You for Your sacrifice—teach me to honor it with my life, my choices, and my obedience. I choose holiness. I choose surrender. I choose You. Amen.
We talk a lot about grace—Christ taking our punishment, ending the need for sacrifices, shielding us from the wrath of a holy God. But somewhere along the line, people twisted that truth into an excuse to live however they want. Let me be blunt: grace is not your permission slip to sin.
Some people ask, “Well, if God won’t punish us anymore, why not just sin as much as we want?” Because that’s a foolish, flesh-driven mindset. Yes, God still loves His children—but sin will wreck you. It will chew up your life, harden your heart, and make you spiritually deaf and blind (Hebrews 3:13). Grace may remove eternal punishment, but it does not remove consequences.
The Bible doesn’t sugarcoat this: Whatever you obey, you become a slave to—sin leading to death or obedience leading to righteousness (Romans 6:16). There’s no neutral ground. If you’re indulging your flesh, you are willingly chaining yourself back to the very thing Christ died to free you from.
Sure, God can love someone sitting in a jail cell. But the bars are still there. Their crimes still destroyed lives. Sin always hurts someone—sexual immorality destroys families, addictions destroy bodies and relationships, lies destroy trust, covetousness opens the door to even worse evil. Sin is not harmless; it’s weaponized self-destruction.
That’s why Scripture says we have an obligation—not to the flesh, but to put it to death (Romans 8:12–13). If you keep feeding your old nature, you will die. Spiritually. Emotionally. Sometimes physically. Grace doesn’t change that.
And let’s be honest—if we truly understand how deeply the Father loves us, we wouldn’t dare treat His grace like a cheap loophole. To use the cross as an excuse to sin is to spit on the sacrifice of Jesus. It’s spiritual arrogance, plain and simple.
Yes, we’re under the law of love now (Romans 13:8–10). Yes, we’re freed from the curse of the Law because Christ became the curse for us (Galatians 3:13). But freedom from the Law was never meant to give us freedom to rebel. It was meant to free us to love, to obey, to walk in the Spirit.
God’s intention has always been for humanity to accept His love. But we rejected it, chased evil, and proved we were utterly incapable of saving ourselves. That’s why a Savior had to come—not so we could go back to our filth, but so we could finally walk in the life, purity, and power He paid for.
Grace is a gift—but it’s also a call to fight your sin, not flirt with it.
I can feel the Lord’s presence, and it comforts me more than I can explain. My heart is full, but there’s also this lingering conviction I can’t ignore. God has been pressing something on me all day, through my quiet time this morning, my conversation with a friend over coffee, and even during that awkward moment at work when I laughed at something I knew I shouldn’t have. I think I’m finally understanding: God is calling me to a deeper honesty. Not just the absence of lying… but full, raw, truthfulness—in all things.
I don’t know why it hit so hard this morning. Maybe because I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty honest person. I don’t steal, I don’t tell outrageous lies, I don’t deceive people—at least not on purpose. But honesty isn’t just about not lying, is it?
It’s about integrity. Transparency. Vulnerability. And I think I’ve been cutting corners with all three.
Ephesians 4:25: “Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body.”
That verse wouldn’t let go of me. It’s not a suggestion. It’s a command. If I’m part of Your body, if I represent Christ, then I don’t have the option to hide behind half-truths, people-pleasing, or pretending I’m okay when I’m not. You’ve commanded me—not recommended—to speak truthfully.
I think about how often I smile and say “I’m good” when I’m not. How I keep things from my family so they won’t worry. Or how I try to clean myself up emotionally before I come to You in prayer, like I need to get my act together first. But that’s not what You want, is it?
You want me real. And raw. Even messy.
Prayer: God, forgive me for the ways I’ve hidden behind niceties or avoided uncomfortable truths. I want to be honest—with You, with the people I love, and even with myself. Thank You that I don’t have to pretend with You. You already know me inside out (Psalm 139:1-4). Help me walk in truth, even when it costs me pride or comfort. Amen.
I think the hardest thing for me right now is being honest with myself about where I’m still growing. About the areas I try to gloss over or rationalize. Like how I sometimes water down conversations about You when I’m around people who don’t believe. Or when I make excuses for not spending time in the Word because I’m “too tired” when really, I just don’t feel like facing conviction.
But You’ve reminded me over and over again: Honesty is the foundation of relationship. You can’t have intimacy with someone you’re constantly trying to impress or hide from.
That’s why being honest with GOD matters so much. Because if I can’t be truthful my creator… how could I ever expect to be truthful with others about God’s presence in my life?
I remembered what David wrote in Psalm 51:6: “Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom.”
Truth in the inward parts. That’s deep. That’s not just honesty in what I say—it’s honesty in how I live. Honesty in my motivations. In my worship. In my repentance.
And the amazing part is… when I bring that truth to You, You don’t reject me. You refine me. You heal me.
Prayer: Jesus, You are the Truth (John 14:6). Make me like You. Let truth dwell so deeply in me that it transforms how I live and love. Guard my mouth from deceit. Teach me to love truth even when it’s hard. Give me courage to speak it in love to others (Ephesians 4:15), and grace when others speak truth to me. Amen.
I talked to Sarah about this over coffee today. She admitted she’s been struggling too—especially with how hard it is to be honest with non-Christian friends about what we believe. It’s tempting to soften the edges of the gospel to make it more palatable. But You didn’t call us to be popular, Lord. You called us to be faithful.
Proverbs 12:22 says: “The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy.”
I want to be someone You delight in. Not someone who plays it safe or dances around truth to avoid awkwardness.
I think about how Jesus spoke truth everywhere He went. And not just comfortable truth. He called out hypocrisy. He told people to repent. He even challenged His closest friends when they were out of line. And yet, people still followed Him—because He was full of grace and truth (John 1:14). I want that balance in my own life.
I don’t want to be harsh or self-righteous. But I don’t want to be lukewarm or vague either. The world doesn’t need another nice girl who’s too scared to talk about Jesus. The world needs light. The world needs truth. The world needs You.
So Lord, help me to be honest—really honest—about who You are, what You’ve done in my life, and what it means to follow You. Let my testimony be filled with truth, even if it’s messy. Even if it’s awkward. Even if it makes people uncomfortable. Because the truth is the only thing that can set people free (John 8:32).
Prayer: God, give me holy boldness. Make me brave enough to be honest when I share the gospel. Help me love people enough to tell them the truth, even if it costs me something. Fill my heart with compassion, not compromise. Let my life point to You in truth and love. Amen.
I can’t believe how much God has shown me today. God never stops pursuing my heart. And even when God corrects me, it feels like love. Thank You for being so patient with me Lord. Thank You for caring more about my soul than my comfort.
I know this journey won’t be easy. There will be moments I’ll want to shrink back or stay quiet. But I also know God promised to be with me.
Isaiah 41:10 says: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
That’s all I need to keep walking in truth. The Lord will strengthen me. God helps me. God holds me up.
So here I am, Lord. All of me. The good, the messy, the in-between.
No pretending. No performing. Just me. Just truth. Just Yours.
Final Prayer: God, thank You for calling me to truth—not to shame me, but to free me. Thank You that honesty leads to healing, intimacy, and growth. Make me a woman of integrity. A woman of Your Word. A woman unafraid of truth because I know who holds it. Use my honesty to glorify You and to point others to the One who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. In Jesus’ holy name, Amen.
Thank you, Lord. I love You more than anything. And today… I love You with honesty.
The Christian Tech-Nerd 