I am happy.
Spending the past four days at home has literally rocked my world. In ways I never imagined. I am left puzzled and confused on how good I feel compared to the past month of my life. I have found beauty in the things that used to seem so ugly and horrible. I have gotten to see the light at the end of this dark tunnel. I have counted my blessings and they have overflown, much over the hardships.
I have gotten to journal, listen to worship music in the peace and quiet of my own room, read the Word, and seek the Lord intentionally everyday. It has been beautiful. It has been God and I, no interruptions. None.
While the word 'broken heart' may be strong, I feel like anything I had close to it, God has mended. God has fixed what someone broke, hallelujah. He is always so willing to fix what the world tears apart. He wants our heart, He wants to pursue us, He wants to woo us and shower love on us. He wants us to attempt to adore Him as unceasingly He adores us. Woah. My heart now doesn't hurt because of some dumb boy, it hurts because of the times I didn't wake up in downright awe of all God has given me and in awe of how He views me as His beloved. If that doesn't make me fall to my knees, I don't know what can. He loves me with a crazy powerful, relentless kind of a love. He loves me the way the world never could.
I have found that home is not only refuge and rejuvenation but it is truth. It is the place where God met me nearly seven years ago and began to break my heart and mend my heart all at the same time. He made me into one of His. This is the room I prayed in for a lot of the things I now possess. This is the house I first sought the Lord in on my own. This is the room I gave up a lot of dreams for myself and allowed God to open my heart to His dreams for me. This is the place I made hard life decisions, lost friendships, mended friendships, this is the place I figured out hard news and heard good news, this is the place eighteen years of my life were spent. This place holds history. This is the bed I wept on and prayed one day I would be good enough for someone. I am realizing I got that wish to the infinite degree, just not in the way I wanted in that moment. I wanted to be good enough for some boy, I laugh at that now. I now feel peace in the fact that I am okay with not being good enough for a boy, if in my entire life boy after boy breaks my heart, my heart is still somehow very much so whole because of Christ. I am good enough for Him. And He is enough for me.
I am declaring peace over running lines over and over in my head of things I wish I did differently. I am declaring hope over believing in shallow lies. I am declaring endurance and steadfastness over conforming to self-ridicule and doubt. I am declaring sacrificial love and grace even when sometimes it gets misused and I grow weary of giving it. I am declaring trust even with the constant reminder that it can be broken. I am declaring patience over having all the answers. I am declaring joy because I just want it bad, plain and simple.
I am declaring that life is good because Jesus is good to me. So good to me.
When God created humans he saw us and saw that it was very good.
I want to be as satisfied with the life I have been handed as God was with giving me this life.
I am blessed.
Too blessed.
"Every day I wake up and thank God for another day. It's not a big ceremony. It's just something I do to calm my soul. I am a blessed person and I feel it's important to acknowledge that fact."
