It took a pandemic to bring me to my breaking point.
It was disastrous, isolating, and painful.
I’ve lost count of the moments that I broke down.
The moments I almost gave up.
The moments of fury, outbursts, and straight-up rage.
I’ve lost count of the moments of grief.
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The moments of sobbing, melancholy, and silence.
I’ve lost count.
It took a pandemic to bring me to my breaking point.
Years of emotions bottled up inside came bursting to the surface. So many emotions. Emotions I thought I had healed from.
As if a fresh, open wound had been revealed. Exposing every layer of emotion I had been hiding and covering up for so long.
With each layer came tremendous pain.
Exposure.
Vulnerability.
Stinging with pain.
Anticipating a new covering of protection. Anticipating new growth.
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Layer by layer, God had peeled back every vulnerable situation I had ever gone through and thrust me into facing them head-on.
Fears and failures.
Letdowns and lost hope.
Lost dreams.
Dreams buried years ago beneath the layers.
A pandemic pushed me there. God pushed me there.
Face to face with my fears.
Face to face with my faith.
God used a pandemic to make me fight. To make me stronger.
He knew I wouldn’t walk out on the water with my own willpower. He knew I wouldn’t confront my fears without the push. He knew my faith was weak and needed to be strengthened.
And so it took a pandemic.
God used a pandemic to push me there, but He didn’t leave me there and He didn’t leave me alone.
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It took a pandemic to force me out of the familiar and into new uncharted waters.
To draw boundaries and fight for what I know is right in my life.
It took a pandemic to break me down and to build me back up.
More resilient.
With warrior-like faith.
It took a pandemic for me to finally realize the strength I had all along.
The stories that needed to be shared.
The confidence in living the only life God has given to me with all of its potential.
For me to finally stop hiding behind my fear and live an unwavering in my faith . . . it took a pandemic.