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this life is a fight. every morning, the last day is gone and i must begin relying on God anew. it’s easy to think that yesterday’s devotions or last night’s quick prayers will hold me for today, but they won’t. as soon as i awake, a disease creeps into my heart again. a disease that starts to pollute me and make me shameful, selfish, angry, depressed, anxious, bitter, and horribly jealous. the disease of the flesh. only his blood can destroy the disease inside of me, but i must allow him to daily until redemption takes me home. i must not trick myself into thinking that i don’t need his blood each new sunrise.  i must wake up every morning fighting to be more like Jesus. fighting to be light. fighting to be good. i am not good. i am so far from good. but there is good in me that has overcome the world and i will fight my flesh to find it. my heart was made in the image of adoration, and creativity, and miracles, and joy, and peace, and kindness, and sacrifice, and relationship. i choose that. every day. i fight for that.