Some days are really good. Some days are really bad. Some moments I'm rejoicing. Other's I'm doubled over in pain. Sometimes I know how to pray, sometimes I am at a loss for words. Somedays I feel like I can conquer the world. At times I can't even get out of bed. One day I'm super efficient, yesterday I couldn't even finish the dishes. People think I've got it all. Little do they know, that yes in fact I do, I got it all, I struggle with anxiety and healing from bulimia, have a past full of trauma, just ask my momma. But don't we all have a story to tell? Don't we all deserve a moment to yell? 

Today my coffee spilled on my head. Yes, my head. Then it dripped all the way down my pristine white shirt that I ironed just days before, as I walked into church and  got near the door, I read a sign that said, "Come as you are." I am here. Here I am. God in heaven, hear my cry. Pain so deep I want to eat, will you give me grace instead of my defeat? Will you fill me with your faith? I didn't change my shirt that stained, a big change from who I was before. Afraid of appearing not all together. Tears filled my eyes, as I stood in worship to God I sang these words, "I'm no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God." A work in progress but a child of God. Sometimes I am strong. Most times I am weak. I am scared that people won't see my heart and so my armpits leak. Choosing joy in the midst of weakness has been my saving grace. Praise God that it's not about how much I can hold it together, but a million times more about his glorious riches pouring out his perfect love and grace upon me, just as I am, but in his eyes, spotless and blameless because of his sacrifice. Mercy like I've never known before giving me the gift of life abundant. I'm learning to enjoy the journey we're on to freedom.