Nothing wasted

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Were there voices trying to tell your story before you even had ears to hear it? And as you grew, did the volume of lies, half truths, and imagined details grow right alongside?

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Did your mother turn off the sound and whisper with her heart that you were a gift of worth; coming into the world carrying purpose- hoping you would hear that above all else?

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Have people judged your life and called it sympathy? Have they heaped shame and finished it with a blessing?

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I see you. I feel your hand in mine. My heart is beating next to yours- drumming out a rhythm, feeling every ache and every defiant boom.

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Boom. Boom. Boom.

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Go on. Look them in the eye. They have dulled and broken down. Neglecting to ask to be polished and mended, because they can’t see their own damage. They only talk because it distracts them from the clanging grind of their own rusted gears. They only stare because if they didn’t, they’d be forced to look inward- at their own mess. You don’t answer to them.

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March on. Remember who you are. Live without fear or shame. Don’t let the judgement of a fallen world or a sea of Pharisees make you feel less. You are built entirely of purpose and grace. There is not time to waste on feelings of guilt or unworthiness. There is great work to be done. You are redeemed. You are held by the same hands that shaped the stars. Your story is needed. Nothing is wasted.