Who Has Your Heart?

My mind seems to never stop. Not from worry, but from thinking, talking with God, being thankful, and dreaming…with my eyes wide open, lol. In the middle of all that noise and all that communion, a question rose up during my quiet time, Who has my heart?

I thought Jesus wholeheartedly had my heart. I really did. But when I looked back at the moment I chose disobedience, when it was clear I wasn’t supposed to be pursuing the route of education, I had to face something I didn’t want to admit. If He truly had my whole heart, I wouldn’t have chosen prestige. I wouldn’t have chosen the praise of people over obedience to Jesus.

That realization didn’t come to condemn me. It came to reveal me. It came to show me the places where my heart was still divided, still negotiating, still trying to hold both surrender and self‑glory in the same hands.

And that’s where this entry begins, with the honest confession that sometimes the thing we think has our heart…doesn’t. And the One we say has our heart…is still waiting for the parts we keep tucked away.

That realization didn’t come to shame me. It came to reveal me. It exposed the quiet corners of my heart where I still wanted to be seen, applauded, affirmed. It showed me the places where surrender was partial, where obedience was conditional, where my “yes” had fine print attached.

And that’s when the deeper question formed. If Jesus doesn’t have all of my heart…who does?

Because someone always does. Something always does. A desire, a dream, a fear, a person, a title, a version of myself I’m still trying to live up to.

We love our unborn child with an unknown depth. We fall in love and hand over our hearts. We may even tell our Creator, “Lord, You have my heart.” But what does that mean? What does that really look like? It’s more than a feeling. Deeper than a fleeting moment.

To say You have my heart is to give Him the parts that don’t behave, the parts that wander, the parts that crave applause, the parts that still think they know better. The hopes we barely whisper, the fears we tuck away, the tenderness we guard because it feels too fragile to expose. It is the surrender of the unseen, the unspoken, the unfinished. It is letting God hold the places we don’t yet know how to name.

It is trust that grows in the dark before it blooms in the light. It is choosing presence over performance. Obedience over image. It is letting Him reorder what we chase, what we cling to, and what we call “important.”

To give your heart is not a one‑time vow. It is a daily yielding. A returning. A remembering.

It is the quiet confession. Here I am again, Lord. Still Yours. Still learning what that means. Still letting You have the parts I once gave to everything else. Still letting You love me into becoming.

Where have you said “yes” with your mouth but “maybe later” with your heart?

Scriptures for This Moment (NIV)

• Proverbs 4:23 “

  Above all else, guard your heart…”

  the heart determines the direction

• Psalm 139:23–24

  “Search me, God, and know my heart…”

  inviting God to reveal what’s hidden

• Matthew 6:21

  “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

  your heart always follows your devotion

• Ezekiel 36:26

  “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you…”

  God reshapes what we surrender

• Psalm 51:10

  “Create in me a pure heart, O God…”

  daily yielding, daily becoming

• Jeremiah 17:9–10

  “I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind…”

  no part of the heart is hidden from Christ

• James 4:8

  “Come near to God and he will come near to you.”

  returning is always met with grace

• Psalm 73:26

  “God is the strength of my heart…”

  He holds what we cannot