Outgrowing your labels.

Another blog on the smart phone...God likes to place things on my heart away from a computer I guess.
I wasn't sure if I should even go through with this blog when God laid it on my heart this week. It's extremely personal, vulnerable, and it will most likely step on a few toes.
But God confirmed in my heart, " if you never step on a few toes, you're most likely not going against the crowd to do anything worth while."
I feel anxious writing this, but God knows who needs this blog.
This is for you. Yes, you.
About two weeks ago marked the three year "anniversary" of the worst time in my entire life.
I had screwed up. Big time. I lost trust. I lost friends. I lost hope. I lost myself. I lost faith.
I had no idea where to go or who to turn to that wouldn't turn around and talk about what a failure I was two seconds later. I wasnt even 19 yet. I was a lost, broken, scared little girl. Am I minimizing the huge choice i had made and blaming the other party? No. I know I'm just as responsible as any. But, I do see now, I was a child. A very lost and hurting child.
Probably stepped on a few toes right there.
I didn't always see it that way, because I wasn't treated like a little girl. I had known this place my entire life. I sang on the stage there at four years old, been on every kids play cast, gone to every youth function, excelled in every fine arts category. I had a lot of friends. I was well known.
I thought I had the world there and the people there would hold me up no matter what.
On that day, my world came crashing down and my former labels were ripped off and replaced with horrible labels I never thought would fit someone like me.
Some labels were given to me by my old friends, by people my parents called friends, by people that never really knew me at all...even some by people who were meant to embrace me as family.
Imagine if you woke up tomorrow and the majority of everyone you trusted and loved cut you off.
Treated you like a stranger.
Passed you in a hallway, looked you in the eyes, and turned the other way.
You have become the untouchable.
You don't understand. These people were your friends. A few short months ago they hugged your neck and embraced you like a brother!
You failed, but you didn't think you were a failure...until now.
You know the saying that if you hear something long enough, you start to believe it?
It's true.
I had looked at a huge scarlet A on my chest so long...I grew into it.
It became a part of me.
And three years later, I was still sewing that huge,annoying,disgusting,big fat A on my chest every single day.
People didn't have to do it for me anymore, I grew into all the labels people slapped onto my heart.
I remember running into one of my best friends a few months after it had happened. They looked me in the eyes...and walked away.
My heart broke into a million pieces. My gut writhed in pain.
I was trying to keep it together for my sisters wedding the next day. But how could I walk down the aisle knowing that crowd of people that used to look upon me with love and respect would be penetrating me with judging stares?
That was a rough day. I wish I could go back for my sister and wear a genuine smile, walk down the aisle, and smile in the faces of those who rejected me...and not with the fake smile I wore for so long, but a huge "God has loved me and shown me grace and wiped away all my transgressions! Forget you!" smile.
That's the smile I wear now. It fits me.
I've outgrown those labels.
I've outgrown those stares of disapproval.
I've outgrown those rejections.
I've outgrown that smile.
I've grown into purity,
I've grown into shamelessness.
I've grown into keeping my head high and my smile wide.
I'm still the untouchable, but in a "God chose me, picked me up, and there's nothing you can do to me to knock me down" way.
It took me three years to outgrow my labels of
"that girl"
"slut"
"HOME-WRECKER"
"victim"
Don't let it take so long for you to let God rip all your labels off and replace them with
"child of God"
"pure"
"righteous"
"new"
Recently I got 2 Cor. 5:17 tattooed permanently on me.
"anyone who is joined with Christ is a new creation. The old is gone, the new has come!"
Wow. Wow. Wow.
God laid this verse on my heart during my fast.
No, He didn't just lay it there, He engraved it there.
Deeply, He engraved it on my heart.
It penetrated my spirit forever.
To think, I, Britney, am a new creation!
The old is gone.
The labels are gone!
The past is gone!
The pain is gone!
That Britney that wouldn't even lift her head to look at you in the eyes is gone.
The new Britney will look at you square in the face, tell you about her past and how God graciously and mercifully lifted her out of the muck of shame and raised her up as a witness.
She will tell you she's a sinner.
She messes up.
And that God called her to missions.
God uses the foolish things of the world to confuse the wise.
And how I'm actually showing my face, much less screaming my screw-up from the roof tops is probably confusing a lot of people.
I have experienced the grace that surpasses all others.
I have been refined by fire.
I have been unchained.
If a man was in prison for his entire life, had never seen the light of day, and then one day was given a free pass to go and roam the streets...
I'm sure he'd act a little bizarre to people that didn't know his story.
That he had been locked up for SO long...
He might dance, sing, kiss the earth.
That's who I am right now.
I've been locked up and I haven't been able to see the Light for so long.
I'm acting a little bizarre.
Im stepping on toes.
I'm ripping off my label.
I'm flipping off the devil.
I am a new creation.
I am a new creation.
I AM A NEW CREATION!

Fast: Week 1

We've all fasted before.
 When I was a kid I just did it because I was told to.
When I was in ministry school I did it because I was told to.
When my church did it last year I lasted for 1 week.
A fast isn't a fast unless you personally feel God is asking you to do it.
God will tell you what to give up.
This isnt a diet.
In fact, many of the fasts God tells me to do don't even involve food.
Last week in prayer, God asked me to embark on a fast, or what I call a spiritual walk with God.
He specifically told me to "Simplify Britney."
I have so far given up Facebook, Twitter, and the internet in general when it's not required for school.
That seemed like a lot to me. I was constantly on facebook, checking people's status' and if they liked mine.
Facebook gives some sort of strange social high that I now see as highly unhealthy.
Then, God asked me to fast secular music...which was one I argued with Him on.
I run constantly, and the majority of the music I run to is upbeat and secular to keep me going and keep me going fast.
God told me not all secular music is unhealthy, but some of the trash I was feeding my spirit without even realizing it was TOXIC.
I would have songs to run to and not really listen to the words, just run to the beat. But, just like He said, I knew every word to those songs unknowingly...and it was complete garbage I was feeding into my spirit.
It's hard not listening to secular radio stations when the only Christian ones are highly cheesy and quite frankly the music is LAME.
 Am I allowed to say that?
When did becoming a Christian mean you lose your real sense of humor? Corny crap.
I feel cut off at this point in my fast. I keep asking God, "When is this going to be over? Am I done yet?"
I feel God won't release me from this fast until I finally go with it, and stop complaining about it every day.
Each week I feel it will get better, and I'll go through a different emotion. It seems contradictory that a fast would make someone feel lonely and depressed...but it's true. When you're so used to being socially active constantly through out the day and then you're suddenly cut off, you feel left out and lost.
I was used to posting my thoughts and what I was doing and where I was at and who with constantly. Who is listening to my thoughts NOW? Who am I going to tell what I'm doing?!
God said, "Now you're forced to tell ME your thoughts."
So here I am, writing in a red leather journal to my God that I can not see...all my intimate thoughts.
Many times I would be doing my own thing and God would tug on my heart and urge me to go somewhere private and journal to Him.
This first week me and God are having a rough time. I'm lonely and I feel so apart from the world right now.
I've grumbled and cried a lot about how annoyed I am that I feel this way and I dont understand why He would ask me to give up all this stuff if it was going to make me feel WORSE than before I started fasting.
Sometimes God wants you cut off, because that's the only way He can get your attention and just have YOU.
When all you have is Him, and the only person you have to vent to is God, your eyes are opened to a lot of what's wrong with you.
Tough love, right?
But necessary.
When I express my problems and complaints to God instead of Facebook or my friends, often times I realize how petty and ridiculous I really do sound.
And instead of "likes" or "comments," God will tell me to be quiet and show me that I am not reacting in wisdom.
I'm not through with week one of my fast just yet, but I've already learned so much about myself and God has pointed out many things in my heart that are not right.
God showed me that often times I am lazy in my work. I do not do my job to the best of my ability. Even when I have to clean a toilet, I should do it to the best of my ability.
I should do everything, no matter how small, with excellence.
Each day I ask God to show me something that day that I need to improve on.
He doesn't take it easy on me either. He has been very thorough in showing me what my heart really looks like.
It's a serious mess. It's been holding on to so much bitterness. It judges more than loves.
I've had to apologize to people God told me to...when I didn't understand, because in my mind THEY were the ones that should be apologizing to ME!
I will pray for an enemy in the morning that I havent seen in 4 years and I'll see them at the grocery store 2 hours later.
Talk about divine appointment.
These first few weeks I know will be rough. God is getting all the junk out slowly and painfully...and I'm fighting the whole way.
I'm going through the fire of refinement before God can polish me.
He's melting away all the gross stuff that's been piled on that I've grown to be comfortable in.
I have become desensitized to my own sin.
What a dangerous place to be for a Christian...wow.
As long as my sin wasnt as bad as "his or her" sin...I was okay in my mind.
Why God chose this specific time in life to do this fast, I don't know.
He does.
Yesterday I went for a run in the woods. I felt like an idiot, running and crying. I just felt so dissected from everyone.
Finally, God stopped me. I leaned against a tree and God wrapped His arms around me.
I felt the first hint of peace since I started my fast.
I looked up in the trees and I was reminded of the little girl I had grown so close to in Caracas so many summers ago.
I could still hear her laugh when I tried to make myself swallow the fruit she handed me off that foreign tree.
My porcelain fingers intwined with her dark ones...skipping with my hair frizzy and no make up on. I didnt care.
I scuffed my running shoes along in the dirt, remembering how dirty I would be by the end of the day after playing with the children in the orphanage all day.
In 2008 at the ministry school I attended, I was awoken one night late with a vivid and confusing dream. I remember telling matt about it the next morning...still in a trance. I saw myself standing in the dry dirt, curls messy and thrown into a braid, holding the hand of a small dark skinned child...just beaming with joy. In the dream I never said anything, I just stood there smiling and holding this boys hand.
I didn't understand. And I never had the dream again.
What did this mean?
Why did God stop me on my run for these memories?
I sat in the dirt in the woods yesterday, getting all my clothes wet.
I prayed.
I begged God if this was it.
Was He calling me to missions?
God then reminded me of the calling to missions he placed on my life at such a young age, so long ago.
"Have you forgotten the dream I placed on your heart as a child?"
I had not forgotten. I had neglected it.
I was afraid. I'm the kind of girl that avoids airplanes and holds onto the door handle with a death grip when anyone else is driving.
I like being in control.
Surely God would not call a girl so full of fear and full of the need for control to give up home and familiarity for missions.
He would.
He did.
God called me to Caracas for the summer of 2013. This is no short trip. God has called me for the entire summer.
I'm afraid if I go God will call me to missions permanently.
I'm afraid if God called me to do missions in my first week of fasting, what other crazy stuff is He going to ask me to do as this continues?
It's week one.
I'm lonely. I'm afraid. I'm called.

Night Gowns and Rolling Eyes

If you were to take me and my mother side by side, you would instantly see the resemblance. I have my mother's eyes, her nose, her height, even my smile reflects my mother.

When I was 14, I would have never admitted this. I probably would have argued that I look nor do I act anything like my mother.

When I was 4, I would have done anything to be like my mother.

Now, I'd be blessed to carry on any characteristic of my mother.

When I was younger, I never left my mother's side. On occasion she might have gotten a 10 minute shower of solitude...if she was lucky. Her leg was constantly suffocated by my arms.
I never spoke to anyone but my mother or my sister, most of the time in whispers.
My mother was my lifeline.
My interpreter.
My best friend.
My play mate.
My safety blanket.
I remember when she would work at night as a waitress I would beg for one of her night gowns to hold and smell that night.
Breathing in her perfume as I drifted off to sleep is a memory I'll never shake.
Tugging on her skirts, wanting her to bend down so I could whisper something highly important in her ear.
But my whispers were important to her.
Every night she would scoop me up and plop down in that old comforting brown recliner in my bedroom and sing to me.
Rocking and softly grazing my face as she softly sang.
I don't remember what she would sing on those nights anymore.
But I remember what I felt when I was safely propped on her lap, feeling no need to have my eyes open to be aware of my surroundings.
I was safe.
I was at a peaceful resting place only my mother could take me to.
Who knew ten years later the last person I'd talk to about my problems would be my mother.
Shes probaly seen more rolling of my eyes than anyone.
All the rules and restrictions I never understood.
Why I couldn't hang out with the people I wanted.
Date the guy I wanted.
She was "ruining" my life!
I vividly remember the day I had a heated argument with my mother.
Over something I now see and understand as her shielding me from future tragedy.
I stormed away from her, pointed my scrawny teenage finger at her as I stopped and hurled around on the stairs...
I gritted my teeth in bitter tears and regretfully said, " I hate you. "
My stomach dropped.
I didn't hate her.
I loved her.
What I really meant to say was, " mom I need you to save me from myself. I need you."
I was really tugging on her old skirt like when I was 4 years old, saying, " mom, mom, lean in I have something to tell you."
Neither she nor I knew how hard I was tugging on her skirt that day.
I'm a distant person.
Often times I'm more distant to those I want to hold on to.
Still, when my mother sees me, she's pulls me tight to her, my head about to pop off.
My chin can almost sit on top of her head now.
I look older. Like a woman.
I don't cling to her leg.
Or crawl into her lap.
I act strong and independent.
But when my mother embraces me before I leave to go to my own home, I feel like that little four year old girl again.
Though I'm standing over her, in my heart I'm still crawled up in her lap, and her arms wrapped around me are like the soft songs she once sang over me.
I've tried to be my mother by walking and tripping in her heels.
I've tried to not be anything like my mother by being a snot-nosed brat of a teenager.
Now, when I brush my strawberry tinted hair, brush my teeth, and put on my eye makeup, I see my mother's red hair that once fell over me as I lay in her arms.
I see her smile when she laughs at my father's jokes.
I see her eyes when she talks about her day.
I am my mother's daughter.
I wouldnt have it any other way.

My Bucket List

Everyone has those things that they want to do or accomplish before they leave this world behind and enter into another.

1. Adopt a child.
2. Own a great Dane.
3. Grow my hair down my back.
4. Run a race in every state.
5. Run a marathon in another country.
6. Help build my own house.
7. Dye my hair black.
8. Try sushi.
9. Eat snake.
10. Live in Italy for a year and learn to cook.
11. Sing karaoke.
12. Try vegetarianism.
13. Learn sign language.
14. Parasail.
15. Hike the rocky mountains.
16. Visit a rain forest.
17. Repay my parents with the care they showed me.
18. Work at an orphanage for a year.
19. Make perfect butterscotch pudding.
20. Be a Godmother to my best friends children.
21. Run until I'm 85.
22. Write a book.
23. Hug my worst enemy.
24. Go cow tipping.
25. Learn to make apple pie from scratch and be known for it.
26. Write a hymn.
27. Have a white picket fence with rose bushes.
28. Help strangers get healthy.
29. Take a ballet class.
30. Learn Italian.
31. Ballroom dance.
32. Mountain climb.
33. Learn to love my natural beauty.
34. Protest with a picket sign.
35. Camp at a national monument.
36. Play the violin.
37. Give a maid of honor speech.
38. Volunteer at a house for battered women.
39. See my best friend marry the man she deserves.
40. Buy a stranger's groceries.
41. Meet Billy Joel.
42. See coldplay in person.
43. Sell everything I own and travel.
44. Move to birmingham.
45. Re-do a worn down park.
46. Grafitti a bridge.
47. Visit israel.
48. Feed pigeons in time square.
49. Write a controversial column for a paper.
50. Wear an all lace dress.
51. Smoke a cigar.
52. Dance on a table in a public place.
53. Go to Spain with my best friend.
54. Skinny dip in the ocean.
55. Plant a tree and my great grandchildren play under it.
56. Learn to fly a plane.
57. Bathe in a waterfall.
58. Horseback ride in Ireland.
59. Pick apple in an orchard.
60. Complete a triathlon.
61. Finish this list.

A Blog. A Toast.

 I know I'm not alone in saying that I have those days when I find myself asking, "Who the heck am I? When did my life completely change? When did I stop being 17?"
In the past week I've seen many faces from my past and if I haven't actually seen their face in person, they've bombarded my dreams in the night.
Some of these people I miss, well, in all honestly, I miss all of them...but I miss THEM, not who they are presently. I miss the person they were when I laughed in the highschool hallway with them, the person they were when we would stay up late at night playing, " For a million dollars would you...?"
I hate that life has changed. I absolutely hate it because I've lost a lot of amazing people in the last few years.
But then I feel extremely selfish...because I remember all the great things that have happened to me these last few years and the new people that have entered my life.
Courtney.
A lot of people probably wonder, " why are they so 'obsessed' with eachother? " Maybe if you knew what we knew...you would understand for a split second what our friendship actually is. Our friendship happened exactly where we both needed it to happen. Courtney's parents were moving and I was fixing to go through some extremely rough crap. Serious crap.
God plucked us up, uprooted us, and bumped us into each other. We just...clicked. Our senior year was a roller coaster. We had an amazing time with one another, but we also had to drive out to a field a couple of times and hash out a fight or two. You think I'm kidding.
We stayed up late, painted our toe nails, and laughed at things only we knew.
We would go for drives when one of our hearts got broken, singing country love songs to the top of our lungs, hair blowing in the wind...in that old piece of crap convertible she had back in high school.
Slushies, walmart, that tanning phase we went through.
Secrets, heart ache, self image issues. Welcome to high school folks...
but we luckily survived. We walked across that large stage not knowing what that night would mean for us.
Senior summer flew by so quick I couldn't hold onto one morsel of it.
I still remember that day we hugged goodbye as I left for a year in Alabama. I waved goodbye to that girl who had grown to be my sister those last two years.
That was a rough year apart. It was hell.
This was the year that me and Courtney grew in a way I never knew was possible. Our friendship blossomed as my childhood died along with the era me and Courtney thrived in.
I'm a strong, never gonna see me cry kinda girl...but when I reflect on that year, my entire spirit breaks.
I lost myself, I lost respect, I lost friends.
I cried myself to sleep night after night.
But there was one girl who drove her butt 6 hours to Alabama the moment she knew my life had just flipped upside down.
I still remember her banging on my apartment door in Birmingham. I still remember sitting in the car with her, leaning over my steering wheel sobbing like life was at it's end.
She hugged me.
And cried too.
She called people names who rejected me.
She never once said, "What were you thinking?! I can't believe you!"
She never once corrected me, slandered me, or scolded me.
She loved me.
She said..."Let's go get slushies and paint our nails."
And things got better...with years.
She was there to dye her hair half pink with me.
And go through that Yoga phase with me.
She was there to make me dance in the car when I really just wanted to punch someone in the face.
She was there for all the family Oklahoma trips.
I was there when she wanted to throw her phone out the window that one time on the freeway.
I was there when she liked that boy, or that one...
I was there when she probably didnt even want me to be.
I've always been there fighting for her, sometimes against her, but always with her...
With every change and phase I've gone through, God has designed her to change and morph with me.
We've gone through bad hair cuts together.
We've gone through break ups together.
We've gone through failure together.
But we're the only ones who have looked at each other's biggest mistake and said, " so what? I'm still your best friend. Let's keep going."
There have been many times that Courtney had carried me on her back and not known it...but I did. And God did.
When I need slack, she gives it.
When she needs it, I give.
She's the only friend I've ever let in to see my brokenness.
The only one that's worked hard enough to see into my heart that I finally gave in .
Courtney can break me with one "It's okay" hug.
Courtney can make me laugh with one joke.
No matter how long this blog is, or how many stories of hurt or happiness I tell you...
Nobody will probably ever get the bond we have.
It's confusing even when I try to grasp it.
But I know what is, I know what God designed when He thought to put Courtney into my life...
was incredible.
And I needed it.
And I still do.
We've faced fire, and I'm sure the fire just keeps going as life keeps trucking.
But the most comforting feeling...is that when I'm 30, 40, 50, 105...Courtney will be there to give me a "It's okay" hug and go get a slushie with me.


I love you Courtney.

Before I start, pardon any grammar mistakes. When God laid this blog on my heart I was in my car driving on the freeway, therefore I'm typing this blog from my smart phone because I couldn't wait to share my heart.
Lately my heart has been breaking for all my beautiful friends who don't see themselves like I do. Today, any size over a size zero isn't "beautiful." Even though I will focus on eating disorders some in this blog, it's not my main point. My point is confidence. I don't care if you're a size one or a size 21, that no longer matters.
The number inside your jeans, the number that makes your stomach drop when it appears on your scale every morning, isn't what I see when I look at you. You don't have a huge 14 stamped on your forehead for the entire world to see.
Some of the most beautiful women I've had the pleasure of knowing in my life, the ones who have poured the most into my heart...are full-figured, God-fearing and healthy women!
When I look at these women, the ones who have shown me God's love, I don't see the size of their waist; I see beauty. I see wisdom. I see Christ.
A woman can walk into a room I'm in, it doesn't matter if she's 100 pounds in Chanel, or 200 pounds in pajamas...if she walks into that room with purpose and confidence, I'm naturally drawn to her. I naturally want whatever she is possessing: unwavering confidence!
Let me let you in on another secret: MEN LOVE a confident woman! It's attractive!
Now let me clarify I'm not beating everyone else up and claiming I have all the confidence in the world, because that would be a big fat lie.
This issue is so very dear to my heart because I was that woman, and honestly at time I still am when I'm not completely relying and trusting in my Creator. I can openly and (not proudly) but in confidence say I struggled with body image and eating disorders from 9th grade until last year. For 6 years my weight was flying around all over the board. I would have a spell of struggling and then be okay. Off and on off and on.
This struggle was once a secret I felt guilty to admit, but now, God has shown me that I should never be ashamed of something that He has gracefully and miraculously pulled me out of. On the contrary, I should be rejoicing and sharing the good news!
Today I am six months scale sober. Sounds crazy right? Today marks six months since I last stepped on a scale to be discouraged or disappointed! For the first time in over 6 years, I have no idea what I weigh. And it's freaking awesome feeling.
Many people don't understand my love of running. I do enjoy exercise and how it makes me feel. I love eating right and taking care of the body God entrusted me with. But, one of the reasons I love running so much is that God took something and disguised it as healing. When I run and train so hard, I feed my body right. I take care of myself because if I don't it could literally destroy my chances of success at a race or marathon that I've been training so hard for.
God planted a seed in me. He works in mysterious ways, and for me, He took running and lit a desire for it in me. There is a bigger picture with God. Always.
When we suffer, like I did with feeling inadequate and unbeautiful, He had all the women who are close to my heart who are currently suffering in mind. He had this blog in mind. God could have taken that struggle from me and I could have never struggled with my self image my entire life and been just fine...BUT! His desire for my healing was not as great as His desire for the bigger picture. Which has brought Him more glory? My suffering which turned into a witness of His grace to other women? Or me never suffering at all and having it easy?
CONFIDENCE is beautiful!
Instead, your beauty should consist of your true inner self, the ageless beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of the greatest value in God's sight. (1 Peter 3:4 GNT)

A Father of Love Rearing a Child of Hate

Rearing (verb ) - Bring up and care for (a child) until they are fully grown, esp. in a particular manner or place.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whosoever believes on Him shall have eternal life." -John 3:16

"If someone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen." - 1 John 4:20

"If you love those who love you, why should you be commended? Even sinners love those who love them."-Luke 6:32

God is love. We are not. Nothing about us screams love, only the sacrifice that was made for us can be labeled with love.
I have thought until now that I loved and knew what love was. I was raised as a church kid. You know what I'm talkin' bout here.
I was taught to open doors for old people, say hi to the girl in Sunday School even if inside she made me want to gag.
I was taught with felt boards and paper Jesus figures on stories of a man on a Cross, a widowed woman with nothing to give but herself, a blind man and a cripple man.
I did JBQ, TBQ, Fine Arts...I was involved in every drama, every event, every trip the youth took you betcha I was there.
I was the little girl who sang on the church stage with an over-sized microphone singing words I really didn't understand at the age of four. But I was cute, right?
The first song I ever sang on that church platform was "He's still working on me."
I was just focused on getting it the crap over with and not forgetting the words. The words to the song are actually really silly, but the message didn't hit that little girl until she was a 21 year old woman.
"He's still workin' on me, to make me what I outta' be..."
Shoot, I was a grown woman...I knew my stuff. I could quote every verse you wanted to hear. I had won awards at many Christian affiliated competitions. I always wore my WWJD bracelet proudly and plastered a Jesus fish on my car bumper.
I was raised as a church kid. You know what I'm talkin' bout.
I knew nothing, NOTHING about walking in love, or love at all.
If you told me how cute I looked that Sunday, I loved you.
If you kept contact with me, I loved you.
If you respected me, I loved you.
If you told me what I wanted to hear, I loved you.
If you had a problem with me, I did NOT love you.
My head knew all these references and facts of Jesus, but my heart knew nothing of love.
AKA...I knew nothing of Him.
21 years and 5 months ago God chose me.
He knew I would grow up as a selfish, ignorant, disrespectful, loveless brat.
He knew I would turn my back on Him and question Him the entire way.
He knew I would clap and sing and raise my hands right on cue but feel nothing.
He knew I would talk behind people's backs.
He knew I would lose friends.
He knew I would gain enemies.
He knew I would screw up....
again.
and again.
He knew I would spit in my family's face with disobedience.
He knew I would tell lies to the people I would one day cling to.
He knew I would move to Alabama and then move back.
He knew I would transition to a new church when I thought I would be somewhere forever.
He knew I would act as a foolish teenage girl when I thought I knew everything.
He knew I would fall flat on my face in front of everyone I cared about.
He knew I would face the glares and stares of those who once embraced me with love.
He knew I would say yes when He said no.
He knew I would be on my bedroom floor that night, face red and puffy from sobbing...begging for Him to heal my daddy.
He knew I would one day come back to Him.
He knew I would one day understand to love people for where they are in their walk of life.
He knew I would one day learn to forgive through other people's unforgiveness.
He knew I would one day learn to love through someone's bitterness.
He knew I would one day transform from a child of hate, to a child of Love.

He knew I would be a child of hate, until I looked His way. 

"This is love: it is not that we loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son as the sacrifice that deals with our sins." -1 John 4:10