a letter to myself.

I found this post, one I wrote 4 years ago.

So I thought I would write a response, to the version of me then.

Who didn’t really know just how many mountains she would jump off, or rivers she would sink deep into. Who hadn’t really truly seen what it meant to live a life fully sold out for Jesus, or to live it. With the tears and the sweat and the ‘your will, not mine’s’

To the girl who thought the reality lived way beyond her expectations, it went further: it still is going further. You let the boxes grow back again, but when He ripped them apart, this time the space beyond was so much bigger. You’ve been lost and found so many times, wanted to give up and curl up and turn back time. But the expectations never seem to reach the reality. When you lift your head up, you can see the endlessness of His reality, where nothing is out of bounds, and no thing is impossible.

You’ve learnt now that boxes cannot contain things that are bigger than everything, and the energy of placing God in those boxes is more than when you see Him outside of them.

Your expectations then were blown away, but you seem to have forgotten about expectations and plans now, because you are beginning to grasp the gigantic nature of His plans, and the understand of the birds and flowers that each day is of its own.

You still adore the people, you’re still in awe of how they push you and love you and challenge you to live….

But you are more in awe of Him, more in awe of His beauty, His adoration, His grace, His forgiveness, His faithfulness and His love.

You didn’t expect to be here this long, to love here this long, to be at home here for this long. I am glad that you learnt to keep going, that you kept going, that you kept fighting.

You now, thanks you then, for your perseverance.



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