Dejected, I mumbled through tears that ran down my face leaving a briny taste in my mouth, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” My red eyes slowly looked up to meet his tender intensity. With a gentle smile he replied, “But you are MY mess!” His words rushed over my distressed soul and I began to feel a quietening overpowering me. No matter how messy I felt or how messy I behaved, this man loved me….ALL of me. His love meant more to me than any other person’s because he knew the dark depths of my soul. He knew the filthy places of muck and mire that the Lord had snatched me from. He knew and experienced how messy even this rescued girl could get, and he CHOSE to love me. I had never experienced such uninhibited and pure human love in my entire life. I was his no matter what I looked like. The issue I was wrestling with that day was the unrealistic expectations that I consistently place on myself. Culture, others, and even the church influenced my perception of
The purpose of these writings is somewhat selfish, as they work therapy for my weary soul. Here is a place where I can refocus (purposefully) on HOPE and GOD'S TRUTH, over what I am feeling. Now, I don't believe that feelings are wrong; what I do believe is that feelings are great followers and unstable leaders. I pray that you might encounter The Savior who loves me, has protected and guided me through my valley of the shadow of death.