I'm literally sitting alone in the parking lot of an old church. It's empty, it's late afternoon (my most inspired hour). I'm sitting here trying to evaluate how my life now has morphed from my life on a pedestal. Oh, how the mighty fall. I often wonder if there really were people anxious to see me fail. I imagine there must have been, there always are.
But alas, I'm this shell of who I once was. Struggling to re-identify my existence with the person I'm striving toward. The more I breathe in this quiet faith, the more I think it suits me. Christianity isn't meant to create harm, or pain, and least of all judgement. Christ meant for us to be healed, to be encouraged, and to have new life breathed into us.
I've been rescued from a false life and I should be grateful for what I've been spared. I'm humbled, I've been shown mercy, and I've been justified in my faith.
I'm at a quiet place in the road. One that's not for anyone else to understand. A simple quiet place that's calling to me deep inside, urging me to make a choice. And I only have two: remain in anger and shame, or embrace who I have become in the wake of judgement and transcend that mercy. I'm not the only forgotten one. And I'm certainly not the worst off. There are plenty who can benefit from my love, and my passion.
It's to those I focus now, and I take a step toward my future at this fork in the road. I'm ready for a new dawn. I've been saved by grace and I shall live my life accordingly.
Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly.
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