They also didn't tell me that I could hand the reigns over to my Father because I was still His child.
No one ever told me that you don't outgrow fear. The monsters lurking just take on a different form is all.
They also didn't tell me that in these shadows, I would learn to lean on God the most.
No one ever told me that love is often a choice you make, not an emotion you feel.
They also didn't tell me that the love would be even sweeter for the choice made.
No one ever told me that the pink and blue bundles of joy placed into my hands would one day bear wounds from their mama's tongue. That my inadequacies, faults and sin would loom ugly in the mirror of their innocent eyes.
They also didn't tell me that there is perhaps no sweeter forgiveness than that of a child who hugs mama close and loves her despite her brokenness and failure.
No one ever told me that I would speak words that had once wounded me. That the words would spew forth as if out of my control.
They also didn't tell me that I would find a way to forgive the one who had wounded me, now equipped with the sweet knowledge that those words hadn't been meant to hurt me but came from a deep well of fear and insecurity.
No one ever told me that I would sometimes get lost in the cacophony of little voices clamoring for my attention. That indeed I could turn them off and get lost inside my own head.
They also didn't tell me that sometimes one small voice would reach through the discord, reminding me that I just had to meet one need at a time.
No one ever told me that someone else's pain could hurt far more than your own.
They also didn't tell me the sweet release of surrendering your loved ones to a caring Father.
No one ever told me that life in this fallen, broken world could be so filled with ash and debris. That I would sometimes stumble through the disarray in confusion and sorrow. But in those moments, He would bring beauty from the ashes, rising up like a brave wild flower taking root in the cinders. The beauty all the more exuberant and wonderful for the dismal surroundings. That when we take root where He plants us, He uses us in our weakness to breathe life to others.
No one ever told me these things
And really, if they had...if they did, I wouldn't have listened. I would've smiled in secret smugness knowing that I would love and live better. Love and live smarter.
Because something else no one ever told me?
I, too, would be more beautiful for the ashes. When I would finally allow myself to be humbled. Kneeling. Broken. Then. Only then could I hear Him whisper quiet, sure words laced with love.
Only then would I let Him shine through this weak, broken vessel.
And that is something worth telling.
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