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I felt God intimating, "My love for you is so much stronger than what you perceive as your faults and failings."
Pain is like a drug though. When you use it too long, it poisons a person, and so it happened to me.
Ingratitude is my inability to see God’s magnanimity.
Rather than running from our failings, Mary embraces each of us with the tenderness of a parent comforting a sick child.
Nothing in God’s world is a mistake.
In stillness, I sense God's call for me to count my blessings.
I felt God reminding me I had a choice, even in the fragile state that I was in.
It was a moment where he gazed past the supposed nothingness and instead saw abundance.
God felt far away, as I believed in order to be loved by him I had to be perfect.
God was using those around me as instruments of his love for me. I just had to let myself be loved.
I arrogantly thought that because I had transformed, the world around me did as well.
The effort of moving towards the light has been a struggle lately in my journey towards forgiveness and healing.
And yet, despite the gratitude I have experienced with each new or deepened grace, I have felt anunderlying restlessness within me—an ache to be “further along” in life or to have finally“arrived.”
As I pray for a deeper connection with God, I find His response to my desire oddly intertwined with a deeper connection to my “wounded” self.
God is showing me how to live with less of me. Honestly, though, it doesn’t always feel like there is more of God.
The pain of grief shows us the depth of our love for what we’ve lost. If it can teach us about love, surely it can teach us about God.
God was inviting me to serve Him in a way that I had never been called to serve before.
I often heard the phrase, “This is God’s will.” At times it brought comfort. But mostly, it brought me pain.
Perhaps from an early age, I learned that my parents felt good when I did things to make them proud, and it became a part of my identity.
After years of hiding some aspects of my life, “God I’ll follow you, but only this far,” God finally had me.
“Give my life away?!” I mused skeptically. I certainly don’t have my life in enough order to start giving it away.
It became instinctual to run away from uncomfortable situations even when the pain was unavoidable, unbearable, and not validated.
I fully realize how these thoughts come from a false reality, but they are so deeply ingrained within me.
I had every effort to become the well-mannered and studious son in hopes it would change things.
I have not known that I felt invisible until I felt seen.
God tenderly invites me to shed my cargo. I do so – slowly.
I came to see that while the other person may truly have issues to resolve, you also bring into your life what you believe about yourself.
What kept me away from God’s true love was my own resistance to myself and others.
I had this urge to work in a mission role for the Catholic Church, but I was not sold on the idea of selling everything to go live in another country.
I can be vulnerable to God because His love for me is agape, but self-love is icky, messy, and hard to do for me.