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.