Day 58

Leviticus 26-27 | John 2

Only 20 verses into today’s reading and the conviction hits me right between the eyes:

“And your strength shall be spent in vain.”

I don’t want that.

I don’t want to spend my life in vain.

I don’t want this blog to be written in vain.

I don’t want my scars to be in vain.

I want it all to be for something.

I want it all to be for Christ.

A Conversation in the Barber’s Chair

I spent an hour in my barber’s chair today.

His name is Anthony. He’s a fellow believer. And our conversations always turn into more than small talk—they feel more like accountability meetings or theology debates. We wrestle with each other, with Scripture, with how to live this Christian life.

And today, the topic was ego.

I always tell him he should record his conversations—mic himself up while he cuts hair and trims beards, then turn it into a podcast and call it Biblical Barbering or something like that. Because so much of what he says is simple but profound and always memorable. I can’t help it. It’s the marketer in me.

And every time, his answer is the same.

“No, no way, man. I have a huge ego, and it’s something I have to constantly ask God to rid me of.”

Today was no different.

But this time, it hit home—because I see the same struggle in myself.

I told him that every day, when I open my Bible, I feel a pull in my heart.

Am I reading to hear from God?

Or am I reading for what will sound good in my next blog post?

Am I listening to Him?

Or am I thinking about how others will listen to me?

And when I ask those questions, I don’t always like the answer.

Because the line between for Christ and for me is thinner than I’d like to admit.

My Table in the Temple

John 2 tells the story of Jesus cleansing the temple.

He walks into the courts and sees men who have turned a place of worship into a marketplace. They’re selling oxen, sheep, and doves—making a profit off of what was meant to be an offering.

So He flips the tables.

“Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” (John 2:16)

And I have to ask myself:

Is this blog my table outside the temple?

Is it something I’m offering to God—or something I’m using to bring attention to myself?

Am I making merchandise of what He intended to be a story about scars of grace?

Because I don’t want that.

I don’t want to walk contrary to Him.

I don’t want to waste my strength on something that doesn’t glorify Him.

I don’t want to be so consumed with my own platform that I lose sight of the only One who matters.

I don’t want Him to flip my table.

I want my words, my wounds, my very life—to be for Christ alone.

What Am I Building?

Leviticus 26 lays out the consequences of turning from God:

“If you walk contrary to Me… I will set My face against you.” (Leviticus 26:23-24)

It’s a stark warning.

Because when we put ourselves at the center—when our work becomes about our own name and not His—God will not let it stand.

He will topple it.

He will tear it down.

He will flip the table.

But then there’s this:

“If they confess their iniquity… then I will remember My covenant with Jacob, and My covenant with Isaac, and My covenant with Abraham.” (Leviticus 26:40, 42)

The moment we lay down our pride, the moment we surrender our ego, the moment we let go of our need to be seen—He is faithful to restore.

And that’s where I want to live.

Not in vain ambition.

Not in self-glorification.

But in surrender.

For Christ Alone

This blog isn’t mine.

This story isn’t mine.

My fistful of scars? They’re not mine either.

It all belongs to Him.

And if it ever becomes about anything else, may He flip my table—before I waste one more ounce of energy on something that pulls my attention away from Him.

Lord, search my heart. Strip away my pride. Let every word I speak, every scar I bear, and every breath I take be for You and You alone. Amen.