Weeks became months. The book’s principles worked into his life like rain into cracked soil. Berg’s teaching on the “heart battlefield” (every thought taken captive to obey Christ) gave Mateo a new weapon: not gritted teeth, but whispered prayer. When the urge to control or explode arose, he learned to pause and say, “Señor, no puedo. Pero Tú puedes.” (Lord, I cannot. But You can.)
Mateo’s hands were shaking again. He set down the chipped coffee mug—the one with the faded baseball logo—and stared at his reflection in the dark kitchen window. He saw a forty-three-year-old man who had stopped believing in transformation a long time ago.
He thought of the final chapter of Berg’s book: “La gloria de Dios no es que usted sea feliz, sino que usted sea santo. Y la santidad es simplemente amor hecho hábito.” (The glory of God is not that you be happy, but that you be holy. And holiness is simply love made habitual.) Weeks became months
That evening, when his son, Daniel, came home with a C- on a math test, Mateo felt the familiar heat rise from his stomach to his throat. The old Mateo would have demanded: “Why didn’t you study? Do you think I work overtime so you can waste your brain?”
Mateo smiles. “Yeah. I stayed.”
Mateo realized with a shudder: his “plan” had always been to make God a co-signer of Mateo’s comfort. God’s plan was to make Mateo a reflection of His Son—even if that required breaking the old man down.
Elena noticed first. She found him washing the dishes without being asked. She heard him laugh with Daniel over a video game. One evening, she touched his arm—a simple gesture she had stopped making years ago—and said, “You’re different. Not perfect. But… present.” When the urge to control or explode arose,
Mateo thought of all his past efforts. He had been rearranging deck chairs on a sinking ship. He wanted God to help him be a better version of his angry, impatient, controlling self. But Berg argued—chapter by chapter, with Scripture woven like steel cables—that God’s plan was not renovation. It was resurrection.