It's been 18 years with Jesus Christ and there isn't possibly enough words to express how real He is despite the fears, doubts, loneliness, disappointments, and unbeliefs that plague me. There were beautiful and cheery times but those can sometimes be easily overshadowed by darkness this world brings to a soul sensitized to pain and suffering.
"Why?" has always been the question I've asked the most since I began talking. It mostly annoys people because it's either they're too busy or too lazy to answer. Answers bring either joy and pain but mostly it's pain. Pain that eventually turns to joy—which is possibly the most difficult fight to do and yet probably the most beautiful. I often lack faith and questioned whether I really am His child or am simply good in acting everything out.
In my heart, I know I've never been good. Never been kind. Never been thoughtful of others. Never really cared. But when people say that I am, it wrenches my gut because it isn't entirely true. What I know to be true is that the good and kind that I am is because of the blood He shed for me. The images of success and failures that I've been and will be, has been covered that no pressure of this world can possibly shatter. Right now, I'm exceedingly glad that I can always rest with joyful tears as He lulls me to sleep. When stripped off of everything, I know I am who I am because of who He is.
"...in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus." -Ephesians 2:7
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