Someone once told me that I see the world the way it was meant to be seen. That I live in a way that people should encourage and appreciate...
I sure as hell hope not.
I've been in the middle of a sick painful and frustrating battle for the last six years.
And I'm beyond sick of it. I want it done. It's done. It is finished. I declare freedom and I speak this away.
Satan, when will you relent?
I'm not worthy of any of this: a loving family, friends like sisters, a boyfriend with an honest heart, a ministry with amazing high schoolers, an internship that is a tangible version of my heart.
I'm not worthy of any of it, and I can't begin to understand how God still l loves me.
I want your divine nature, I'm putting it on.
I want out of my skin, of my shell. I want out of this.
I just want to be done, and some days I don't feel strong enough. Some days I want to crawl away and erase the last day or so. Some days I make myself sick, and I just want to be done. I just want victory.
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