The scars from that memory will always remain with me. However, it was not meant to hold me captive. It encourages me to grow and allow myself to be transformed by letting go and remaining open to His story for me.
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The “untruths” had no chance against the power of my identity as God’s beloved and His presence within community.
I held so tightly to a specific vision of love that I didn't even trust God to help me identify it, to help me wait for it, to remind me that it surrounded me.
God was suffering with me in the darkness. He was the gentle reminders of love, the light that guided me through.
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.
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.