Everyday I’m served with poignant reminders of who I used to be.

Some days, I believe I am still that girl.

Used up, worth nothing.

What a dirty, rotten lie from the adversary.

he says: “Tattered.”

HE says: “Mended.”

Instead of dwelling on those thoughts, I will use them to run further into the arms of my Father.

The One who will comfort. The One who will discipline. The One who will heal.

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