Do you ever have those moments when you space out completely and people automatically assume you’re trying to stare through their soul to try and discover their granny’s secretive mashed potatoes recipe? Well, usually those spacey moments are a period of reflection. Reflections such as either past experiences, memories, or even reoccurring events.
Whelp. I am currently having one of those intense focusing modes of reflection. I am currently reflecting on the girl I used to be. Sounds deep, but trust me, there are basic principles behind these memories.
You see, right now, I am envisioning and reminiscing on my childhood. I see myself as a little girl dressing up in eccentric outfits forcing my family to gather in the living room and fangirl over my rad clothes. I see myself making mud pies in the backyard, being a little devil child that got spanked often, and finding the most joy in the simplest pleasures.
I am smiling as I remember the sweetest times, but I also am in intense reflection upon the events that have molded me into who I am today.
Events such as tearful tights, grief, pain, hurt, broken hearts, and life’s deepest wounds. I see what I’ve gone through and who I used to be, and I cannot help but praise Jesus. I see a girl who when Papa reached out for her, she carelessly spat in His face, a girl who angrily pushed anyone and everyone out of her life, a girl that beat herself up daily because she found her value elsewhere, and a girl who was unbelievably broken.
I wish I could tell the girl I used to be that I had been loved, adored, and cradled by a beautiful Father who wanted my complete heart. I wish I could tell her that on those days where she hated herself, that Jesus was wiping her tears while cupping her face longingly looking into her eyes with the purest form of love. He had her the whole time, He never abandoned her, He will never abandon her, and she is loved. I yearn to tell her that her life has value, and Papa was there the whole time. He didn’t leave, He didn’t chastise her, He didn’t condemn her…He was holding her secure in His arms the whole time.
Unfortunately, I can’t go back in time and desperately communicate these vital revelations to the girl I used to be, but I can communicate it to those reading this. The girl I used to be isn’t who I am now, but I love and treasure her. She taught me to be stronger, influenced me to get up, gave me hope that one day I would come to this divine revelation that this world is temporary and this life is not my own.
I am still learning to become vulnerable to our beautiful Creator, and the process is painfully slow, yet I am joyful and rejoicing in the fact that He is present. He is present even when I am not. When my focus is not on Him, His focus is still on me.
Soooo pals, basically what I am saying is that I am not the girl I used to be because I woke up one day and He helped me decide I didn’t want to be her anymore. I am not the girl I used to be because my Savior woke me up, lifted my chin, and said, “Child, let’s go on a journey together.”
He’s got ya, fam!
