How Can I Not?

Sometimes when I am talking about my life, the crazy twist and turns, the moments that at times have become literally carved into my flesh, it seems impossible, unreal, beyond what I can, most times, put into words.
I don't know if its the decisions I have made that have brought me to the depths of sin, isolation, pain, or what, but I simply cannot see things the way I did before. Everything seems bigger, and at the same time things I see others get so twisted up in really just don't matter.
There are moments when the weight of my sinful choices, and the consequences I am facing suffocate me. There are moments when I list my failures, or have someone point them out to me, and I want to crawl off somewhere and die.
But over and over again in those moments, there is another voice that says, Jessi, look up. Jessi, see Me.
Many years ago, I went to the alter. A broken, mess of a girl and said simply, God it is too big, I don't know how, but here I am, I'm giving myself to you.
The freedom in that moment was undeniable. I spent years telling any and everyone what He had done for me. It had been so awful I knew and understood it could not be me who rose beyond it, but God in me.
And life happened. I was unprepared. With a willing heart, but broken mind, I fell into a place so dark and so ugly, I could not see the sun. After a time, I convinced myself that even if the sun existed, I most certainly did not deserve to see it.
In a moment, when the choice was no longer live in this hole or not, but live or die, once again, God reached down to me.
He knew I could never get out on my own. He knew I had given up. He knew I had forgotten.
I am the daughter of the King. He sees me lovely. He has a plan, a purpose, a destiny beyond this moment.
There are times I feel unworthy to speak His name. There are some close to me who mock the changes in my heart. There are some whose sole purpose in my life right now is to accuse, to remind.
As my sins are listed, they are meant to crumble me, and while they are painful, they reveal more to me about who God is instead of who I am.
He is merciful. He is full of grace. He loves me.
If He can love me, someone who has made herself so ugly that even those who by genetics alone should love, then He can love anyone.
It really isn't about where or when or how I have failed, but that in those failures, my God says I am His. He won't leave me, He won't let me be hopeless.
Knowing where I was, and seeing Him bring me daily one step further away from that place, I am left simply with praise. How can I not?

Cross the Street

One of my friends wrote this and I wanted to share. She is also an amazing artist, check her out when you can: Christie Council

"All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing"

I also read this last night from a story about a woman, Christine Caine, and how God called her to work to stop sexual slave trafficking. Caine says God clearly spoke to her through Luke 10. “While I was so troubled by what I had seen, I was still thinking, I am the Good Samaritan,” she explains. “But then God clearly said to me, ‘No ... you are the Levite and the priest in the story who walked to the other side.’ And then it hit me: The Good Samaritan gave of his time, talent and treasure.

“It was then I felt the Holy Spirit saying: ‘You know, Christine, most of My church thinks they are compassionate because they cry or, like you, they feel bad when they see injustice. That’s not compassion—that’s just emotion. Compassion is when you cross the street.’” LET'S CROSS THE STREET CHURCH!!!!!!!