Lately I have been trying to defend my faith to those in my personal life who are denying His existence. They laugh at me, pity me even. I am not going to fight them anymore. I am going to show them. Love them. Give them peace. Let them step back and see that I what I believe is real and true and worth it.
What did I lose when I gave my life to my Savior? I was a party girl. A hot mess. An addict. So lonely I wanted to die. Every. Single. Day. Nothing, not even my children were worth living for. I had no hope. And this little girl, who I love so much, has HOPE tattooed on her wrist. I just want to take her hand, trace those letters with my finger, and whisper to her about the One who is hope. Show her that life is worth living. That following a King is so much easier than following the prince of this world.
But I let her have her own version of hope. I respect her that much. To let her decide her own path. And keep on loving her.
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