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A New Hope: Restoration

Updated: Dec 30, 2019



It has been a long time since I have written anything. Many posts hide in folders out of fear that I might hurt someone. I cannot hide anymore. I cannot suppress anymore. I am just going to be open. Even if nobody is reading.


I never thought I would get to the point where I thought my life had no purpose. That it was meaningless. That I was nothing. I hated myself in hopes that people might love me. I am so tired of writing with hidden agendas hoping that people will read between the lines. It's too much to deal with and too much to handle. I'm not smart enough to manipulate my future and certainly not wise enough to understand how to get people to read between the lines. I am tired of the hidden meaning. And I am tired of not pursuing what I love.


I love to write. But I gave it up because I felt discouraged. What I was doing wasn't right. I should write letters to other people or keep things to myself. My writing wasn't good enough or my writing couldn't discuss certain topics. My writing was considered manipulative and a way to hurt other people. I am not an intentionally evil person, but even I felt as if I were a demon walking on earth.


I never thought I would become so broken that I would completely lose myself to try to be something I was not. Something I cannot be no matter how hard I try. And something I have to accept.


Sitting in a behavioral health facility with scrubs on, access to one community telephone, and having no access to something as small as a pencil was eye-opening. I wasn't allowed to go home. I wasn't allowed to even keep my toothbrush. And every 30 minutes I was monitored to make sure I hadn't hurt myself. It was a painful part of a long process.


I never thought I would get to the point where my mind was shattered into so many pieces that it felt like I was looking into a broken mirror with an unrecognizable reflection. I felt helpless and alone. I remember panicking in the ambulance. I remember thinking I was going to hurt myself and going insane in front of a nurse as I called out to God to rid the demon that had possessed me. I felt insane.


It is a terrible feeling when your body has hot flashes that tingle to the point you feel every muscle throb. Your heart races and you want to scream. It feels like madness and you just want it to end. You even forget to breathe. And even around a million people, you feel alone.


I beat myself down to the point I couldn't handle the life in front of me. To the point where I truly felt I was worthless. That I had no purpose. I felt I deserved to suffer. And to be honest, I did. And I do. I am a sinner after all. But there is one thing I have to accept.


I am not perfect. I can't be. I have never been. And I never will be. I am the bottom of the barrel. The lowest of the low. But I have hope.


I used to want someone to love me to the point I gave up who I was to make it work. That is a major regret of mine. It has made me bitter and angry. I have cussed out old photos and bullied myself to the point of self-hatred. I just was not perfect. There is no other way around that. But I no longer have to carry that weight.


Sometimes we lose ourselves when we think we have found something that supplements who we are as a person. We give something up to make someone else happy. Sometimes that is a good thing. But if we aren't careful, we can lose who we are in the process.


A lot of you have known I do not cuss. But I have cussed more times in the last year than I care to admit. I even said the F-word. I have struggled with pornography and have held hatred in my heart. I have been bitter and angry and unforgiving. I have been the best example of how not to live your life.


Part of me quit writing because I felt that I would never be perfect enough to write something to serve God's kingdom. I feared people would dig in my past and find out how terrible I am. And you know what? I am. I am a wretched, wretched sinner that makes the murderous Saul look like a saint. And thank God that I am.


Thank God I am a sinner. Thank God He gave His Son for my life and yours. Thank God the blood of the living water never runs out. Thank God He created each of us with a purpose and redeems even the criminal on the cross. Thank God He gives hope to the hopeless and He will wipe away every tear. Thank God guilt is the stain of the burdened and sin is the scar of the righteous. Thank God that our justification comes from a death that shall never be outweighed by our life. Thank God that no matter how many times I run to something else, He waits and wants me to come home.


I might go to heaven, or I might go to hell. To be honest, that is not something I need to worry about. If my parents, sinners like me, know how to give me good gifts, how much greater will be the gift of the perfect Father? He has prepared a place for all of us to call home despite all our imperfections if we turn to Him. If we turn over our chains and imperfectly say "Father, your blood is worth more value than our gold," He is faithful to wash away our sins. We can earn a million things, but we can never earn the greatest gift.


I will write because I love Him and want to serve Him. Nothing I do comes from perfection, but may it in some way be from His resurrection. May it not be I who speak but the Spirit that speaks through me. I am nothing more than flesh and bones, a vessel for His grace. From the dirt I was formed, and from the dirt I will return. But my soul is sanctified by Him.


Love and grace to all. I am excited to be back.

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