Picking back up from where you left off is always one of the hardest parts of writing so I’ll just jump right back into it.
So (just as a recap) at the age of fifteen I was suicidal, massively depressed and anxious, and just an all-around mess. I honestly believed there wasn’t a point to life anymore, or my life that is.
The summer of that year my parents decided to send me to a music camp. I’ve played violin since I was five and it was one of the few things I cared about at the time. The music camp was a classical music camp but also a Christian one, and this is when things finally changed.
As I mentioned before, I’ve grown up in a Christian home but was never very serious about my faith, I held a childlike view of God (as all children do lol) and when things got dark I decided He didn’t care about me. The first day I attended this music camp I couldn’t wait to go home. It was two whole weeks and I was dreading every moment of it. Regardless, I started to build friendships and had a good time, in spite of my determination to hate it. Every single faculty member there had a real heart for Jesus, the place was overflowing with the Spirit, and I started to question my understanding of Christianity. On one of the last days there was a chapel message and it was on adoption in Christ. I can still see it clearly as I sat in my sweats, sleeves drawn over my hands, as for the first time in my life the pastor’s words finally meant something.
It was in that moment that something clicked. I had grown up all my life singing “Jesus loves me” but had never believed it, after all, God was just the man in the sky waiting to slam His gavel over my head. Jesus chose to adopt me through all of my brokeness, my dirtiness, because He loves me that much. I sat and wept even as the message ended and the other campers filed out of the room, in fact, I cried most of the day.
I’ve never been the same since that day. Granted, things weren’t peachy after that. I went in circles, a lot, constantly flip flopping between remorse and rebellion for years. My addictions didn’t vanish, my scars didn’t fade away and my crippling self-doubt and self-hatred didn’t magically disappear. But each and every day Jesus is slowly changing me, His grace and patience shaping me into the person I’m meant to become. I want to love everyone around me with unwavering, selfless love. I want each and every person I speak with to leave feeling more valuable than ever before. I want every person I come in contact with to look at me and see Jesus. I’ve got a long way to go. I’m not nearly where I want to be, but I’m not nearly where I used to be. I guarantee that if you compared the person I am today to the girl I was then you would never have recognized me.
God is so good. He took an absolute MESS, pieced her back together and is daily polishing and beautifying her. Jesus isn’t just a man in the sky waiting to slam his gavel over our heads, He’s the creator of the universe who loves His creation more than Himself; and I believe He will right every wrong, heal every hurt and fix every injustice. He won’t leave you to your pain, my friend, He loves you too much to do that. There is hope. There is beauty. If God can fix a broken soul like mine, He can (and will) fix anything.