Re-Reading

My life has had so many new chapters that the volumes would fill an entire mental hospital – physically.  The paper itself.   And the actual written content of the paper might fill up a mental hospital with the doctors trying to solve my insanity that’s revealed throughout the endless journals.

The particular height of insanity in the year proceeding the divorce from my first husband is embarrassing and humbling to re-read.  People can be so destructive and filled with rationalization all at the same time.  I know because I was both.

But what I also know is that I was desperately seeking God.

I guess that’s how we grow.  For me, I’ve always been a writer and observer (or maybe that order should be reversed.)  But before I reached shattered brokenness, I was a pillar of perfection.  Warped perfection: as it always must be.

Being broken is the only way to be genuinely free. You already know this if you’re enjoying it.  My own story of unlocking the chains of lies and perfection and facades brings me to fabulous grateful crumbling tears.  God was inside me all along. That’s how He rolls.

He sits in our ugly rooms waiting for us to call on Him to take over.