There is a vast difference between hearing words and actually believing them.
For most of my life, I did the former. To say I took things with a grain of salt was an understatement. I used the entire shaker.
My grandmother never missed an opportunity to tell me I was beautiful. I would give her an obligatory smile and think as her grandchild, she was required to say that.
I didn’t see what she saw. I measured my worth by my ability to perform and to please others. But beauty? It was too subjective. Too personal.
So when I heard pastors preach on grace and tell me God wanted a personal relationship with me, the concept felt foreign. The Creator of the Universe wanted to know me? What did I have to offer Him?
My unbelief led me down a road of poor decisions and an endless search for love in places that could never fill me. To say I was a mess would be an understatement.
I only shared the version of me I thought would be accepted and wondered why my life felt empty and aimless.
Will you continue reading with me? Today I’m honored to be sharing part of my story in my dear friend Tiffany Parry’s series, “Real Conversations with Women of God.” You can read the rest of my post here.