Alive.

Alive.

Alive from abuse, alive from hurt, alive and living a full and real life. Alive and living through pain. I am alive. I am alive because of Christ. Because in Him I have hope. What is different about this religion? HOPE. Its not religion, its Jesus. My best friend, my healer, my comforter, my Father, my Mother, my love. Where would we be without hope? Without a brighter day? A better day? This world is shattered and broken. So broken. But I have hope. Hope is the key with Jesus. I know this is not it. I know He has the last word. Redemption. He redeems all that has been and will be lost. He takes our pain, if we give it, and breathes life and redemption all over it. We are free. Free to move on. Free to choose. Will it stop hurting? Will we forget? No. But everytime we remember, we give it back to Him. The only one that can take it and turn it to HOPE. That is how we live. That is how I am alive. That is how I choose everyday to live. The arrows will always come, we live in a fallen world. But every time they come, I choose life. I choose to turn to my Father and say, 'take this out, it hurts'. Instead of my yanking, turning, making it worse. In the blink of an eye, its gone. Sometimes He cries with me. Those are tender, loving, moments between us. I feel like a child. A little girl that crawls into His lap, curled up, crying and totally surrendering. I have nothing to hide, nothing to give, except myself and my hurt. Thats all He wants. Thats all He's ever wanted. All of me. The ugly, the bad, the hurt, the shame. Thats it. So I give it, again and again. He's never turned me down. Never turned me away. Never made me feel worse. Just opened His arms and clutches me tight. He rocks me back and forth, like a Father rocks His child. I take a deep breath, I say 'sorry'. He smiles. Forgives. We laugh. I want better. I want more of Him. I climb down with His help, to try again. He lets me go. I wipe the tears and move one foot in front of the other. Baby steps. He watches me go. A concerned Father, but knowing He can't do it for me. I must go. Until the next time. I will be back. And He will be waiting.