Chances are many people are not going to like what I am about to write. You will be confused. Some of you will not understand because, well, my struggles are not your struggles. And that's okay.
I could not help but think about what I have done, or haven't done, this past year.
You see a year ago I came home to a place that wasn't really home any more. I came home to feelings and people that I did not want to have to deal with. I came home to not wanting to go out in public because I didn't want to run into anyone. I came home to people I had lied to. I came home to people who had turned their backs on me. I came home to judgment. I came home to no longer the ocean as my backyard but a backyard filled with shameful memories.
So you might be wondering why I even came home. Well truth is there was really only one person who could get me to move back to the midwest away from my beloved ocean and the community I grew to love in LBC.
Grandma.
To say that my Grandma is the rock of our family is a gross understatement. I was getting word that her health was a little shaky so I came home.
You see I have learned that life is short the painful way. I have been filled with regret thinking about all of the time I didn't spend with people. People I would of died for. People that are no longer here. I don't want that to happen with my Grandma (not that you're going any where any time soon woman!!)
So here I sit one year later. three boyfriends later. two jobs later. four homes later. one hospital stay later. four cell phone numbers later. five plus hair styles later. two tattoos later. one million tears later.
So here I sit.
One.
Year.
Later.
To say that I have somewhat wasted the past two years is nothing less then the truth. Every time I make headway I am hit by the train of temptation. You see about two years ago satan finally figured out my weakness.
Men.
These past two years I have done things I never thought I would do. I have said "yes" to things that should of never even been a thought in my brain. I have gone on dates I never wanted to go on. I have had sex with people I never thought I would even kiss. I have had sex with a man who I thought was "the one". I have said "no" to God more times then I would ever want to count.
I have been in complete denial of the fact that satan does in fact know me.
I have been in denial about the joy that I bring him on a daily basis.
I have been in denial that he is roaming this earth looking to seek and destroy.
I have been in denial about my own weakness.
So much of my life I have been trained to remember things I know about God but what I really need to be remembering at this point is what I know about satan.
So now what?
Well the way I see it, I have two options. I can continue to ignore what I know to be true about satan or I can use what I know and go to battle.
This is, after all, my life I am fighting for.
If you really know me you know that I am a 7. I am a dreamer not a planner. I have so many big dreams that I don't know how any of them are possible. I have spent many nights asking God to throw me a bone. But what I have realized recently is that my request is completely ridiculous.
What am I doing in my life that would ever make God want to bless me. Not that He will only bless those who are "perfect" or anything along those lines. But seriously...if I am not even remotely close to doing the things I know God wants me to be doing why do I think that any of my dreams will ever come true?! Because, let's be real, I will never be able to make my dreams happen on my own.
Trust me.
I have tried.
And failed.
Multiple times.
Father forgive me for being a dumb sheep.
You see I need to let God prepare me for the day my (dream) life starts. I need to prepare my heart for the life I so desperately yearn to have. I need to be making intentional decisions and I need to stop intentionally disobeying God.
If the Son has set me free, then why do I keep acting like a captive?
"The moment we admitted our guilt and accepted our pardon, the prison doors were opened. And as much as satan wishes he held the keys to lock them back again, he doesn't. All he can do is try to keep us seated in an unlocked prison cell." - Beth Moore
So here I walk, two years later, out of my prison cell.
