The road is rougher than I expected. My heart has been broken, my body made weak, my passion stifled.
So how is hope now stirred once more?
Why do tears roll down my face when I feel happy? Why do I turn up to events ridiculously early? Why do I run when stress strikes?
How is it that from the lowest low point in my life I find security in the one constant Constant?
The scars run deep, my wounds still bleed and are yet to fully mend. The soles of my feet are shredded from the roughness of the path I have been given to tread.
Why then do I feel like change is coming?
Why do I feel like the lost years are about to be returned?
Why do I feel like the darkness within me is being drained and punctuated with moments of happiness, like stars in the night sky?
He knows His plans for my life.
He sees the potential for prosperity.
He sees the hope.
He sees the me I could be, the me He carefully crafted, the me He sang over from conception.
Not the me in my cave, bricking up the entrance and protecting my false hopes and dreams that bring no satisfaction…
He sees the real me.
And He wants the real me.
And He loves the real me.
And He adores the real me.
And, with my permission, He has torn my past into scraps, broken through the layers of defence, and shouted…
YOU ARE FREE!
So now I hope.
And I return to hope.
Tears of joy mingle with tears of pain. How could I hide for so long? How could I have missed out on so much that life has to offer?
The reply comes loud and clear, shouted at me in the most gentle of voices: “Don’t be afraid of missing out. You’re my dearest friend! The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself.”
And so I hope.
And I step into a new beginning.
I emerge, a creation of grace, knowing how much I have been forgiven, and ready to take leaps on the path before me.
Life restarts now.
This is a redraft of my first ever blog entry, written after a major life change. Now that my life has taken another life change, it felt right to return once more and reflect.