I never thought of myself as a writer or a story teller. I never thought that my words could affect anyone, bring them encouragement, hope. Change their mind. I never thought that I had a writing style, or a voice. A theme. Yet, I’ve always had a need to write, a deep desire to put the words that were floating around in my head onto paper. I’ve had many moments when the words just poured out of my fingers without an idea of what I was going to write about, but I didn’t see a reason to share them with the world.
Until very recently I didn’t realize how powerful one’s story can be to others. My and your lives may feel ordinary or boring to us, yet they may be life changing to others. We often fall into a trap of comparing our stories to others and thinking that we didn’t have it as bad as they did. However, there are a lot of people that are in the exact same spot as we are and we have the power to lift their spirits up, show them that there is hope for a better tomorrow. Our words can be used as a platform to share the love God has for everyone. We have the power to impact this sad world in so many ways. I have the power to do it as much ass you do yet for the longest time I remained silent.
I don’t really know. Maybe my story was just developing.
Maybe I let the enemy talk me out of it.
When I was a little girl I felt like I was special. I may as well say it out loud and start this journey with those words. Not special in an ‘I’m so pretty, smart, loved’ sassy way. It was a different feeling. I felt like I was chosen to do something big. Something bigger than people that I knew, especially my friends. I didn’t feel like I was better than others, just that I had a set purpose that was deeply aligned with God’s plan for many others.
I didn’t act superior to others nor did I make anyone feel less important than me. Most of my life I actually hid this feeling from everyone, especially from myself.
There was one day that was so significant I will never forget. The day that I let satan take over the feeling I have and replace it with a seed of doubt in my mind, heart and soul.
I was in church. It was a random Sunday. Spring time. A few weeks before I turned 9. Right before my First Communion. I was sitting in a wooden pew on the right side of the altar, 4 rows from the priest. My best friend Karina was sitting right by me. Our arms joined. I was wearing a white blouse and a navy skirt. And red shoes. I’m not sure why but I remember so clearly how those shoes fit. It was my very first pair of pointy toe shoes with a little heel that made a clicking noise while I walked through the church. I kept looking at them instead of listening. Those Catholic preachings seemed so boring at that time.
Right above me there was a stained glass window. It was beautiful, often projecting rainbows on the floors when the sun hit it just right. There was a little missing piece in it. I never noticed it until that day. A sun ray came through that very tiny missing piece of glass and shined right on my hands. I felt it before I saw it. Which made no sense because it wasn’t warm or anything like that. And when I finally noticed it I got overwhelmed. Completely frozen with two contradicting thoughts.
I felt so special in that moment. I felt like God was sending me a signal. I looked up at the priest to hear him read this verse: Jeremiah 1:5
‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
Before you were born I set you apart;
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations’
I felt whole. I felt chosen. I felt strong in His will without knowing what it was.
I kept looking at that little beam of light on my hands. The sun started moving and the light started shifting. Down to my knees. Down to the tips of my red pointy toe shoes.
And then the unthinkable happened. I felt it deep in my heart. Deep in my mind. Deep in my soul. I felt doubt. Doubt… I panicked. What was I thinking? Was I insane to think that God had this amazing plan for me? Was I that full of myself? Doubt… satan…
I left the church crying that day. Feeling unworthy of His love since I was so ridiculous for being 9 years old and thinking I was special. My shoes were making that clicking noise so I took them off and ran out. I never wore them again.
The priest ended his preaching with Matthew 22:14 ‘For many are invited, but few are chosen’
Those words stabbed me so deeply. So so deeply. I wasn’t one of the few. I couldn’t be.
I never forgot that day. The clothes I was wearing. The pew I was sitting in. Karina’s sweet voice and the hold she had on my arm. The shoes. The light on my hands. The two verses. The doubt…
satan won that day. satan changed the course of my life that day. The life that God planned so carefully for me and with so much love was hijacked by satan.
Today I can look back and see that I’ve lived a very full life filled with some of His purpose. I smile thinking about it. And I hurt knowing that the doubt that was planted in my heart at age of 9 stopped me from living that purposeful life to the fullest. Until recently when I realized what satan had done and what I let him do over and over in my life.
So maybe that’s the reason why I never felt like sharing my life story was the right thing to do.
As a child I knew God created me to be special. He did that with every single one of us. But many of us let that feeling die and chose a path we weren’t designed to live.
You are as special as I am. I am no different than you are.
You have an amazing story just like I do. We all do. And for some reason only a few of us are willing to share it.
I really don’t know why I lived in suspension for 25 years.
What I do know however, is that this right now is the right time for me to open a brand new chapter and start writing down the words that I have a burning desire to share with you.
I hope to encourage you in a way that you start looking at this world through brighter lenses, start finding good in others, and become more compassionate.
I’m hoping that I can bring about change to this world one soul at the time.
I love you all!