These past couple of days have been hard. These past couple of weeks have been hard. These past couple of months have been hard. Every lie that I have ever believed to be true of myself has seeped back into mind wearing a mask of truth. You’re not enough, but you’re also too much. Your past is too much for people & you’ll scare them away. No one will want to be around you if you’re consumed with sadness. You’re not worthy of this life. You shouldn’t open your mouth, what you say doesn’t matter. You’re not a safe place for other people. You’re not doing enough and you will never do enough. These thoughts have infiltrated every aspect of my daily life. From ministry, believing I shouldn’t be the one to pray for someone because my prayers won’t carry the weight that they need to, to believing that I am not the right person to be there for a teammate because the words I have to say and the support I have to give is not enough or what they need. It’s been scary and defeating because things that I’ve been wrestling with the past three years of my life appeared like they were here to stay. I had taken these lies on as truth and it caused me to slip back into past patterns of anxiety, fear, anger, depression, jealousy and suicidal thoughts. Writing all of this and sharing it with the world scares the hell out of me. But I know keeping it in the dark is exactly what the enemy wants. He wants me to remain wrapped up in the shame the I feel towards it all. This past week has been one of the hardest and most trying weeks yet. I had to have a discussion that I had dread having, one of coming home from the race early because I no longer felt that it was a safe place for me to be. I cried and I cried and I cried probably more than I ever have about anything. I cried to my mom begging her to tell me it would be okay if I went home and that it would be okay if I stayed. I didn’t know what the next step was for me anymore, what the Lord wanted for me and what I needed to do for myself. And if you know me at all you know how much I hate making decisions. A joke that I keep using as an excuse for this is that I am from Kentucky and we were a border state during the Civil War, so therefore I don’t like to make decisions because it runs in my blood #bleedblue. The Lord was telling me that it was my choice to make and that it was something he would bless whichever direction I chose. Well spoiler alert: I am finishing the race. I can’t explain my decision because my own reasoning has not yet become clear to me. Every ounce of my being was telling me to leave, but I know there is more for me here even if it has not yet been revealed to me. I am choosing to stay and I am choosing to be here and choose this every single day. I am choosing for my yes to this journey grow more and more bold and I am choosing for this yes to not grow weary. The Lord has spoken over me that this next half of the race and season of my life is going to be a season of healing. It’s going to be a season of me believing what he has called me: that I am a woman of grace and gentleness, that I am worthy of this life and that he created me with an unmistakable joy and light, that I am a peacemaker, and that he has crowned me with flowers. I do not expect this season to be any easy than the past, but what I do know is that it is going to be a good one.
