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addict with a pen

When people are determined to change their ways, it is required to know what exactly they are to change. We can't change upon someones request, or to please someones expectations..we must decide to it for ourselves. People can lead us to the well, but they can't make us drink. 

In my short life on this earth, if I have learned anything, which isn't all that much, is that in order to change our ways, it takes hard work. It takes a person to be honest with themselves, it is easy to lie to others about how we're "fine" but deep down we know that we hold on to some dark secrets that are stumbling blocks for change. 

Sadly, upon returning from my trip, God showed me what I could be while I was there, and then He brought me back and showed me how far away I'm from that in this reality. 

Every day, has been a battle. 

He has been chipping away at my character, destroying the mold I created. I picture a potters hand, creating a beautiful vase, and then I envision the vase falling and being shattered to pieces. I have taken over His creative work in me a few years back, and molded myself into a vase, maybe not that beautiful, and it's uneven and it is with many cracks, but it hardened. 

After the trip, I prayed, "what ever breaks You, what ever is not of You, take it away." It ended up being my being. He looked at me "You, daughter, it is you that breaks Me, let me fix You." 

In this season, I'm being broken and put back into the Potters Hands to be molded, in the way He needs me to be. 

For a while, no matter how regretful and apologetic I was for my wrong doings, and my actions that broke His heart, I never felt a clean slate as it talks in the bible. I never witnessed "white as snow" or felt like I'm being washed and my sins were no longer remembered by Him. 

Lately, I've been realizing the depth of my heart, the darkness in it. I prayed, I begged, "what do I need to do to feel clean again?" 

I became an addict with a pen. I must have written out a prayer six pages long, and a page front and back of my sins. 

I was shaking because I knew I'm about to sit face to face with my demons. 

By number sixteen of my wrongdoings, I felt His hand, the thought that ran through my mind was "I died for that, and I died for that too, and, daughter, I died for even that one too." 


Whoever is reading this, and if you have read the bible at all, even a little, then you'd find the passage where it talks about the Cross, and how the nails pierced body hung up there for us. That is the only thing that gives me any bit of strength to sit in this room with my demons within my eyes sight. 

I don't know what my growth will look like from now on, I just don't know. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be, I'm not supposed to know. One day at a time. 

I listened to a sermon today, and the pastor said "Our sin in in His presence" He's ready to forgive it, He's ready to toss it and hold me instead. The question is, am I? 

I have come, face to face with my explicit heart, with my transparent actions, and my wretchedness. For change to happen, we must identify the root and the problem, we must pin point the moment everything changed, maybe even the person or people who we allowed to change us. When and at what point did weakness enter in? 

I know. 

I implore you, don't ignore the voices, don't knowingly continue your life in the same path when you clearly know what it could be, what you could be. 

The other day I told my friend "I feel as though I'm unforgivable." Her, not being a Christian, simply knowing what I've told her in the past, she pointed me to the bible, she pointed to my own truths, she called me out on my own wrong believing. It took her, to throw words I've said so so long ago, to turn me to Him now. 

Be encouraged, know that you are not beyond saving, and no matter how masochistically comfortable it is to sit in your own self bestowed unworthiness, you are strong enough to rise up. 

So rise. 



  

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