Our pastor, Hollie Miller, has been encouraging us to choose a verse for the year—something we can return to, pray through, and anchor ourselves in as the months unfold.

My husband has asked me several times if I’ve figured mine out yet. Each time, my answer has been a consistent no.

Until today.

This morning’s sermon shifted something in me.

Pastor Hollie preached from Psalm 32—a psalm of confession, release, and the deep, holy joy of forgiveness. His message landed right where my heart has been sitting for a while now. He shared four points for those who want to truly experience the joy of forgiveness:

1. Confess honestly

2. Pursue urgently

3. Listen carefully

4. Rejoice loudly

And goodness… I needed that Word.

The past few years have been challenging for me spiritually. Not necessarily in a loud, obvious way—but in the quiet, aching spaces of my soul. I’ve wrestled with silence. With shame. With wondering if I’ve strayed too far to still be useful.

So when Pastor Hollie read these words from David, I felt my own heart echo them:

“When I kept silent, my bones grew old through my groaning all the day long.
For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me;
my vitality was turned into the drought of summer.”
— Psalm 32:3–4

That was me.

Trying to carry the weight alone.
Trying to pretend I was fine while slowly withering inside.
Letting the voice of the accuser whisper louder than the voice of the Savior.

But then came the reminder I needed so deeply:
I can rest in the finished work of the cross.

“There is no unpardonable sin except for unbelief in Christ,” Pastor Hollie said.
“You are a child of God through Jesus Christ.”
And to those who carry shame:
“You don’t understand the concept of grace.”

He’s right.
Sometimes I forget.
Sometimes I carry burdens that Christ already paid for.

But today, grace found me again.

A Few Things I’m Holding Onto from Psalm 32

As I’ve continued to reflect on this Psalm throughout the day, here’s what God has been showing me:

1. Confession is not a ritual. It’s a heart posture.
   I can’t treat confession like a checklist. My heart must be aligned with His—grieved by what grieves Him, surrendered in honesty.

2. Once forgiven, always forgiven.
   If I’ve truly repented and confessed, any lingering shame is not from God—it’s from the accuser.
   God does not hold my sin over my head.
   And neither should anyone else.

3. Grace invites me to stay close.
   I don’t have to clean myself up to come back to God.
   I am already covered in the righteousness of His Son.
   That’s who He sees when He looks at me. And that’s why I can stay in His Word and in prayer—no matter what.

4. God can still use me.
   My past doesn’t disqualify me from worship or witness.
   His grace covers all sin.
   I can praise Him privately and publicly—because that’s what grace does. It makes worship rise.

5. The deeper I see my sin, the deeper I see His love.
   When I recognize the depth of what He’s rescued me from, my gratitude deepens.
   My love grows.
   And I begin to understand, just a little more, the power of the cross.

So Yes… I’ve Found My Verse

Actually, God found it for me.

“Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity,
and in whose spirit there is no deceit.”
— Psalm 32:1–2

This is my verse for the year.
My reminder that I am forgiven.
That I am free.
That I am blessed.

Not because of anything I’ve done, but because of what Jesus finished.

Thank You, Father

Thank You for grace that never runs out.
Thank You for chasing me with kindness when I want to hide.
Thank You for lifting the weight when I’ve forgotten how to let go.
You know what I need better than I do.
And You love me still.

You’ve begun a good work in me.
And I trust You to complete it—grace upon grace.