Guilty

I walked for over a year with guilt and shame attached to my name. No one could see. Blind to the fact I wasn't the girl I was pretending to be. Hurt by the choices of one. I ran from the Son. Determined to numb the pain. But pursued by a God who knew the truth. Unrelenting love. Yelling I've washed away your stains. Yet too consumed by guilt to hear him scream my name. As I was disoriented by chaos. He refused to let me stay. Never gave up. Never walked away. Instead, arms held open wide…… He waited!

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I've spent this month reflecting about this crazy life Gods blessed me with. I remember when he started pursuing me. I remember when I decided to live for him and him alone. I remember the fire he placed in my bones. I remember my first trip to Mexico. I remember when he called me to go. I remember being called into leadership. I remember the first time I preached. Within all of these amazing memories, I also remembered the guilt. Talking to a friend, it felt fresh. The guilt of wasting a year running from God and his call on me, it weighed me down. I remember running towards God at the end of that year feeling like a prostitute. Like an adulterer. Like an unfaithful wife. I remember how I struggled to break free from that and live in the truth that I am loved. I remember falling victim to the thought that I was unworthy to ever do anything for God again. Then, I realized I still sometimes live under that condemnation. However, I refuse to hang on to any of it anymore. I am not my past. My mistakes do not define me. I am washed clean by the blood of Christ. I refuse to let the enemy use condemnation to prevent me from being what God has called me to be.