Chapter Nine

I Haven’t Changed; I’ve Been Transformed

People say I’ve changed.

Some say it with gratitude.
Some say it with confusion.
Some say it with disappointment.

And maybe, to them, I have changed.
But that’s not the whole story.

Because I haven’t just changed.

I’ve been transformed.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world,
but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”  (Romans 12:2)

This isn’t about self-improvement.
This isn’t about behaviour management or looking like a “better person.”
This is about a holy reconstruction, one that began the moment I stopped striving and started surrendering.

Transformation is not cosmetic.
It’s not a new vocabulary.
It’s not new friends or new routines.

Transformation is death to self and life in Christ.

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.  The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”  (Galatians 2:20)

When I look back at who I used to be, what I used to tolerate, chase, defend, I don’t even recognize that version of myself.
And that’s a good thing.

Because if I still looked like the old me,
I’d be questioning whether Jesus was really Lord of my life, or just a guest.

Some people miss the old me.
But I don’t.
Because that version of me was bound, exhausted, and performative.

This one?
This one is surrendered.

Not perfect.
Not always polished.
But free.

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”  (2 Corinthians 3:17)

This is the freedom transformation brings, not the liberty to indulge, but the power to walk in truth.

I’m not trying to go back.
I’m not apologizing for what God delivered me from.

 If something had to die for me to be free, then let it stay buried.

You may feel like people don’t understand who you’re becoming.
That’s okay. They’re not the One forming you.

Stop explaining your transformation to people who only knew your bondage.

You are not obligated to stay the same for the sake of familiarity.
The cross is not comfortable.
The resurrection is not subtle.

You’re not improving, you’re being made new.
So let them say what they want.
You keep walking in truth.

Jesus,

I thank You for not leaving me as You found me.
Thank You for confronting the false, for cutting away the dead,
for loving me too much to let me stay bound.

I don’t want to look like the world.
I don’t want to live in who I used to be.

Transform every corner of my life, my thoughts, my speech, my desires, my decisions.

Let me reflect Your holiness, not through effort, but through intimacy.
Let the fruit of transformation be evidence of our relationship.

And when others don’t understand me anymore,
let that be okay.

Because I’m not chasing their approval.
I’m chasing You. 

Amen.