Sitting in on Carolyn McCulley's session, my heart was wrenched as she spoke on women's global issues. She explained that more women have been killed across the world for simply being women, than were killed in all the genocides of the 20th century. She tied together the principles of Biblical womanhood with social justice, but with the Gospel as the uniting bond. It made sense.

As Carolyn said, "The Gospel fundamentally changes all the rules--it's not longer about you." When it's no longer about us, our hearts are freed to serve others in dynamic ways. We have God-given resources at our disposal; we're called to defend others as an extension of God's heart for the oppressed. After all, how can we uphold Biblical womanhood and "Christ-centeredness" if we are unwilling to act on behalf of the most needy? In that double standard, I have seen my own hypocrisy.

That's kind of how I see my love, too. Hypocritical, undetermined, proud. There's the ideal of what love should be like, and then there's the mini version that I pull off.

I don't think I'm unique this way; lack of love seems to be one of the chief grievances people have against the Church. More often do we see churches building bigger parking lots than combating homelessness. In the face of sin, I'm quick to give up and become cynical. "God, Your people...we're a mess. We can't do anything right."

And yet, as I overheard women praying together outside of the conference session rooms this weekend, and watched as an older woman mentored a friend, I've seen God's hands touching people. In the midst of my own conviction, in the midst of indwelling sin, God is still conquering. He's still teaching through the speakers; He's still serving through the volunteers at the Prayer Room and book tables; He's still pushing wheelchairs down the hall.

Yesterday evening, Bob Lepine challenged us to ask ourselves what was holding us back from obeying God wholeheartedly and saying “yes” in surrender to His will. What “lesser things”, he asked, might be holding you back from godly maturity?

The Spirit supplied an answer immediately: Me. That simple word sums up the tug-of-war that’s been going on in my heart days before I arrived.

As I’ve been taking the time to be quiet before God yesterday and today, the motives I’ve had behind many things are being exposed. Even while I’m praising Him in words, I’m often so much more concerned with making my name look good than Christ’s.

So here I am, in one of the most conducive settings possible to focus entirely on Christ—surrounded with godly men and women, singing with 2,500 followers of Jesus, listening to powerful messages extolling the glory of God. And yet, within the past few hours, I’ve still been wobbling back and forth with being strikingly self-centric. How much littler can you get than that?

But here’s the amazing part. Yes, God is revealing idolatry and hypocrisy in me. And yet—it isn’t all ‘woe-is-me’. I’m not sludging knee-deep in condemnation. I’m being humbled, I’m repenting—and there’s joy in it.

Which is amazing.

If you don’t really know me, I should explain: it really isn’t very difficult for me to get trapped in a merry-go-round of self-centeredness. Even the opportunity to jump off-- with conviction-- can easily turn into more self-centered thinking about the sin itself.

Because of the emphasis on the gospel, God graciously isn’t allowing that to happen right now. There's nothing sweeter (and more necessary for my soul) than hearing the gospel over, over and over in different ways, from different people—and the gospel is being proclaimed everywhere right now, from the speakers on stage to our table-mates at meals. It’s been so re-focusing to hear God’s works praised all throughout the day—in-between bites of cream-cheese slathered bagels and pineapple at breakfast, listening to different sessions, and even walking through the halls. (Keeping His works on my lips like that is one thing I plan on taking home with me.) Through the speakers and people here, God’s showing me His glory in the forgiveness and freedom He offers through the Cross.

Since the emphasis of the gospel isn’t on me anyway, that means the focus doesn’t stay on my dirtiness—and I can be freed to praise Him honestly. This really is all about Jesus.