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I didn’t have a breakthrough. I just had a Tuesday where I got out of bed, made coffee, and sat on the porch for ten minutes before anyone needed anything from me. It wasn’t dramatic. Nobody would put it in a testimony.
But six months ago, that Tuesday wouldn’t have happened. I would have stayed under the covers, told myself the day could wait, and let the guilt pile up along with the dishes.
Grace, for me, has looked less like lightning and more like these ordinary reps. Getting up. Drinking water. Texting one friend back. None of it looks like faith from the outside. All of it has been, from the inside.
If you’re in a season that doesn’t look like much yet — it still counts.