Since I was younger, my mom told me I was a storyteller. I would paint pictures with words and composed my own songs.

I’ve never knew this part of me was inside of me till my world was flip upside down. There was where I learn to write to God.  The most intimate, raw emotions of pain, sorrow, joy and confusion were all laid out in those blank pages. It was the only place I could go where I could escape from every single stereotype of a pastor daughter should be and reveal the ugliest part of me. I was a mess, struggling to accept that I was made for more than succeeding in life. You see, I saw things that made me run the opposite direction of where He wanted me to go. I was afraid and impatient of the painful process he was taking me to. The silence was excruciating when it came to questions to the point where I became the silent one. There’s where I met extraordinary people who spoke into my lives. As I wrote, He began to unravel, correcting my perception of who I thought He was. Time and time again, He showed me He was love. It was at those moments, where I found God. He was right there. Somedays, He spoke and other time He listened. I would find scriptures to lift my spirits up, attached them to my journal pages because deep down I refused to believe the lie that God was not listening, I refused to believe that He wasn’t in control. That was what I held onto, these journal pages were words of hope despite my brokenness, expectations, and things I could not control.  I’m far from a great writer or poet but God’s been tugging deep down in my heart to share it with the people around me. You see, I love stories and He knew I had a story to tell.

I don’t know where you’re at, what you’ve been to, or what you’re going through, I hope that my story would show you an array of hope. What you’re going through is where He wants you to be at. This isn’t your ending, but it’s part of your story.

Thus is my LovingEveryOde.

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