By Jennifer M McPherson

I share many things in this space—teachings, reflections, prophetic insight, stories of healing and transformation. But what I am about to share may be the closest to my heart of anything I’ve ever written.
Last night, I sat in stillness with the Lord.
Not to ask for direction.
Not to hear a word.
Not to accomplish anything spiritual.
I simply wanted to behold Him… and to be held by Him.
It had been a long time since sorrow brought me to that place—the kind of sorrow that strips away all pretense and leaves you aware that the only safe space for your soul is in His presence.
And it was in that quiet that He spoke.
Not about theology.
Not about ministry.
Not about prophetic things.
He spoke to me about my heart.
As tears overflowed, I heard Him say something that broke me open in a way I can’t fully describe:
“You are suffering because you have not trusted Me with your heart.”
The words landed like revelation wrapped in tenderness.
Because He was right.
I speak about Him with passion.
I minister His heart to others.
I walk in revelation and sensitivity to His Spirit.
But I had not entrusted Him with my own heart.
Somewhere inside, there is still a little girl—
a little girl who believes she has to protect herself,
who stands guard even against the One who loves her most.
And the Father, in His gentleness, will never force His way past the self-protection we build.
He invites.
He waits.
He whispers.
But He never violates.
As I sat there, I began to see how this has shaped my relationships.
On the surface, I let people in.
But internally, I’m always assessing, always watching, always anticipating harm or rejection.
It’s a survival instinct that once kept me alive—but now keeps me exhausted.
That is not relationship.
And it is certainly not trust.
But yesterday, something shifted.
Something in me said, “Enough.”
I felt the invitation to surrender the parts of my heart I’ve guarded my entire life.
And all I could say was:
“Father, today I give You my whole heart.”
Scripture says that when we turn to Him with our whole heart, the veil is removed.
And with humility I can say this:
Even with all the revelation and insight God has given me,
there is always more to see when the heart is fully yielded.
When we make the Spirit Lord not just of our ministries, our callings, and our gifts—but of our inner world—He lifts every veil we’ve lived behind.
And suddenly, we see Him clearly… maybe for the first time in a long time.
If you’ve been carrying a guarded heart—if there is a little boy or girl inside you still trying to protect what only God can heal—my prayer is that you find the courage to open your heart again.
Not because He demands it.
But because He is worthy of trust.
And because He is the safest One to hold what has been wounded.
Today, may we all say:
Here is my whole heart, Lord.
Remove every veil.
Let me see You clearly.