NEW MORNING MERCIES is the daily devotional I read. It lays open to the present day on my desk ready for me to read daily. Every word in it takes me deep into who God is, who I am, what sin is and help me through whatever the day brings.
This is a little of today’s devotional: I really love the honesty of the Bible. I don’t need vacuous religious platitudes that delude me into thinking that life is far better than it really is. I don’t need a form of faith that requires that I deny piece of reality in order to have peace of heart. I don’t want to be in the position of having to close my eyes to things that make believe that they are not there. If it is anything, the Bible is honest. The blood, guts, and dirt of the fallen world stain its every page. Filled with brutally honest stories of flawed people marked with stinging analyses of the brokenness of the world, the Bible requires us all to be honest as well. Paul Tripp
A surface believer avoids this process. Their walk with God depends on doing: “I’m fine — I go to church, I give money, I serve, I do what I’m supposed to do.” Their confidence rests in activity, not intimacy. When I slip into being a surface believer, it’s usually because I don’t want to look honestly at my heart or examine the real motives behind what I’m doing. Surface believers also tend to look outward instead of inward — judging what others do or don’t do, while never letting God speak to their own hidden places.
But those who go deep with God live differently.
They don’t gossip. They don’t make rash remarks about others. They walk steady, even when life shakes them. They encourage. They look for the good. They forgive quickly and willingly. They carry a quiet strength.
Honesty is essential if we want to go deep with God. No one can be truly honest about themselves and remain a surface believer. Real honesty forces us to look at our own hearts — even when what we see makes us cringe or turns our stomach. But that kind of honesty is what leads us into conviction, then repentance, then restoration, and finally a sweet, quiet peace.
Depth with God isn’t loud or complicated. It isn’t earned by doing more. Depth comes from honesty — the kind that opens the heart wide and lets God speak into the places we would rather hide.
The deeper I go with God, the more I realize He has never been afraid of my honesty. He already knows every hidden place, every motive, every fear, every moment I’d rather not look at. What He waits for is my willingness to let Him speak into those places. And every time I do, He meets me with conviction that softens, repentance that cleanses, restoration that steadies, and peace that settles like warm light over my heart.
Surface living is easy — anyone can stay busy, stay distracted, stay outward. But depth requires courage. It asks me to stop looking at what others do or don’t do and let God deal with me. And when He does, something beautiful happens: my heart becomes quieter, kinder, slower to judge, quicker to forgive, and more willing to see the good in others.
Going deep with God doesn’t make me perfect. It makes me honest. And honesty makes me free.
