I started public school when I was half way through my 5th grade year. I wasn't really connected to other kids; all my neighborhood friends had moved so I had been isolated from other kids other than the ones from the church I attended. I was labeled the "weird/stupid" girl and it took me about 3 years to get a new name... My name.. Throughout those 3 years I became distant to people and God especially. I refused him; I refused to let him hold me. I was hurt by so many people and I had hurt so many people. Out of all those people, the person I hurt the most was myself. My self-esteem was shot, my life become a routine, my parents didn't enjoy my company anymore, etc. It got to a point where my dad swerved into an empty parking lot trying to pry me open because I wouldn't answer his question on if i was okay or not.. We sat in that parking lot for about an hour just to get a line I will never forget. "You are sad. THIS is sad." That is what he told me. I didn't want any help because I thought I was unable to BE helped. But then when I had hit my rock bottom, God intervened. He introduced me to my best friend who REFUSED to let me refuse Jesus. Even after all my fighting, all my pain, and all the tears, God refused to let his child, me, die. He pulled on my points and shoved on my heart. He tore all my walls down and at some point... I was left with him. Just me and my King. He used music to get into my heart and he introduced so many godly people to start chipping at my stone walls. God brought me to my knees and picked me up when I thought I was unable to move. I remember a conversation from a couple years ago that my best friend and I had. I was arguing with him about how I was hopeless and how God should just give up on me. I had told him that I was so unbearable; I was in a prison I couldn't escape. He told me my cell door was wide open and all i had to do was walk out. I argued and I told him i was shackled and bound to the floor. The door may be open but i'm unable to break free. He told me that Jesus broke my chains so I could dance and sing. I told him that even if my shackles were gone that I was still paralyzed. I will never forget what he told me next. He said,"Then let God carry you." It took longer than just that night for me to let God carry me, because I am very hard headed. Somewhere along the way he had me in his hand. When I called for him to hold me, I felt his arms wrap around me and his words soothe me to sleep. The Devil had me so tightly and I gripped onto him because he was my comfort. God showed me other wise when he blew me clear out of my heart. Yes, my demons still exist but they DO NOT control me like they used too. I have been shown I am a masterpiece and in the hands of the king. There was a point where I would've taken my own life, but somehow God continually never fails. He had me in my bed crying and worshipping "You're all I want, You're all I need, You're everything, Everything." and "Forgive me, Forgive me, Lord" and so much more. He held mme pour while I poured. He had broken me just to pull me towards him so I could truley love him. My God... My God. He is my Hope. He is my story.
Sometimes you must be torn to the bone to be shown who is your core. Sometimes you need to be left bare to become who you are supposed to be. Sometimes God will bring you to your knees, because that is the only way you will see what you need to see or what you need to hear. I would've never seen my Lord for who he is. I would have never been on my hands and knees looking up at him. I would have never known a taste of his love, his joy, his hands.
“Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy.”
I was taught this verse. I was taught that he was my fortress. Full of wonder, power, mystery, and heritage. He is my Story.. He is my Hope.