Wednesday, November 4, 2015

'If I should speak then let it be of the grace that is greater than all my sin'

I want to attempt a late year resolution. A blog a week. And not that of a photo dump for mainly my own benefit of one day sending these off to a blog to print and wam.bam. scrapbook via 21st century done. Those need to still happen, but I want this to be mostly words, ideas, experiences, thoughts of my own, of my story and current life. I am not a perfectionist when it comes to writing, but the idea has been playing back and forth in my mind for a while and as the house is quiet with sleeping minions I finally sit here and being my virtual journey.

So. Let's start from the beginning. Big Daddy Weave puts it perfectly in his song 'My Story'.

'If I told you my story

you would hear hope that wouldn't let go

...to tell you my story is to tell of Him'


Moved to tears. Every time I hear this song. I have been foolish and broken. I have been in the wrong and blind to see it, too selfish to acknowledge it. I have been lost and depressed. I have tried to grip at the things of this world and make them my hope and joy. I have tried to live for the party and the lust that our world sells as fun and fulfilling.

But ya'll. I have also said no more. I have also seen the beauty that God can bring through redemption. I have experienced His grace and forgiveness.

I have felt His tug at my heart to share. I have felt my own resistance battling if this worlds media outlet is too much. Am I to put my personal self and family out there for anyone to see and pry at? I want to say no and stay in my shell and know my story for myself, or for personal friends and family. But, tug after tug here I am.

I believe that God doesn't ask us to sit in a corner with our story but to stand tall and strong in the journey and path that we have taken and share the hope that He has given throughout all the good and bad.


As I was a child I clashed into a situation that led to confusion towards sexual impurities. As if being a child in this world wouldn't lead to it's own handful of confusions for this, my story had a helping push. Luckily it was a simple and physically unharming push. But unluckily any push is a push and in our lovely world the last thing any child needs is a push into that mess.

Anger then ensued in my childhood. I've blocked so much younger times out, but I also feel like I remember being able to light up a room, yet the same evening cry myself to sleep feeling helpless, confused and alone.

We were raised in the church. That was something that I fell into and stayed involved with up to high school. Yet what I failed to do was find my own personal relationship with God. I did, and still do, find so much connection through worship, but outside of the power I find in worship the mind games start. It's so easy to find myself fumbling on questions or doubts. So, that is what I did.

My first fumble was with vodka and code red mountain dew. It was gross. I was caught immediately as it was obvious once I returned home and hard to miss as I bonded with the toilet that night making it pretty indisputable. I should have taken note of my weak stomach after my first rendezvous but no...not me. I insisted on replaying that scene over and over for about six years.

There is laughter and fun memories built amongst that time, but do you think that's what I replay the most in my mind? Not one bit. I replay the feeling of chasing after the drinks in search of fun, acceptance, fulfillment. I replay the tears after foolishly giving a piece of me away, robbing myself and my marriage of that priceless gift. I replay feeling unloved after a breakup and searching so long and hard to fill that gap in all the wrong places.

Now here I am.


Typing this here with my sweet boys sleeping as my patient, loving husband is at school teaching. In our humble home that fits us perfectly. With the opportunity to work part time from home and be here raising our boys-for the good days and the bad days. Not looking to false love for happiness, because finally I caved to see the bigger picture and allowed God in to show me His true love, peace, and grace.

I am here. I am fighting to draw closer to God and to know Him in ways I never took the time to before. In ways that I should have, to save myself from all that destruction. Yet, grateful that I am here to have my story and show first hand the power of God's grace and how it has in turn placed in me the strength I need to fight off the things of this world that lead to false hope, false joy, false happiness.

I am tired of living in a way just to disappoint myself time and time again.


My boys deserve more than that. My husband deserves more than that. I deserve more than that.

God did not allow me to walk off and turn my back for no reason. Here I am now, at a place I have never truly been before. Taking the time to see God. To know God. To keep connected and grow close to God.

I struggle with discontentment, I struggle with selfishness, cursing, jealousy, unnamed sadness, lack of confidence, self doubt. So many things that are personal to me-my personality, my story-and some that I think are across the board struggles that women and humans alike have because, well, we are human. And sometimes we just suck. Sometimes we just struggle. And most of the time we just can't seem to get it right.

At least we're not alone. Not on our own. That is what I have come to realize and that is what I am fighting for.

So. In this new chapter I aim to draw hope, strength, and joy from God and not from myself or the things of this world. Not from my family, friends, or possessions. It's a daily check and balance for me.

But I am not here by mistake. I have not taken the path I did to get here by mistake. Because, as Big Daddy Weave so greatly put it...

'If I told you my story you would hear victory over the enemy. If I told you my story you would hear freedom that was won for me. If I told you my story you would hear life overcome the grave.'


And I believe God can use me, my story, my stupidity for his good. I pray that He does. That He gives me the courage and humility to do so.

A blog a week. My story to be out there. My imperfections. My fails. My steps to draw closer to God. My fight to better myself personally, in marriage, as a mother. MY LIFE.

If it can make one person smile or not feel alone then I will file this as a success and thank God for the tug. If not, we'll chop this up to a big misunderstanding and pretend it never happened.

Out with the old. In with the new. Cheers to new beginnings.


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