I am messy with sentiment. It clings to my skin like ash. It litters my floor in piles of salty words like "before" and "maybe."
There is an ocean of regret inside my stomach and most days it bubbles out of my mouth like soap. I am trying to be okay with the fact that every inch of my skin is a poem to all the ones who didn't stay.
I did not grow up in the church. I did not grow up being taught that loving -things- too much makes you a sinner. (Would I shudder so much at the idea of a capsule wardrobe if I had?)
But I also didn't grow up understanding grace; the way He loves us so sweetly, even through our brokenness. I didn't believe that I was good enough for Him to love me, and while now I know that I will never -be- good enough, I also know that He loves me through my messy imperfection. He loves me with a kind of love that only He is capable of.
It is that love that has brought me here to write to all of you, because I did not grow up in the church.
I feel like I need to confess something here first: I am a terrible blogger.
This is my third, maybe fourth attempt at blogging. I always inevitably decide that my idea, while pretty in theory, has no real substance. I've never known exactly what I want to say, or rather, what someone hasn't already said before, and better. Or at least, until now.
Because I didn't grow up in the church, I didn't cling to him in all my grief and anguish and struggle. I didn't know. I didn't understand how beautiful His grace is, and how fiercely He loves us, despite our "not being good enough."
And its okay that I didn't grow up in the church, because I found Him. I am His now, and seeking Him fervently, adamantly, ceaselessly is all that matters.
More than a year ago at my first Yellow Conference, a speaker said something which has altered me forever. She said "vulnerability doesn't make you weak, it makes you accessible."
Accessible. That what I'm trying to be now. Accessible in all my messy imperfection.
I am still learning how to be a good Christian; to love others as He loves us. I am still striving to be a better daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend, and mentor. None of these are easy things.
I am still learning how to navigate the aesthetic of heartbeats.
I promise, I'm trying.
Bear with me.