We are Conquerors, Never Failures.

I have this terrible curse, disease, stupid habit known as being a borderline "OCD Perfectionist." This often bites me in the butt, especially when I notice things/events in my life aren't going "right." They are not as I had planned, they are not going how I want them to be, the odds are not in my favor, and everything is falling apart at the seams. I scramble to fix it, to change it, I am willing to bend over backwards and break myself down to make sure everything goes back to moving smoothly. And then I find myself having nervous breakdowns and emotional meltdowns.

I try to hide them, and fail, then beat myself up for allowing this weakness to take control. 

If things are not perfect, they are not right, and I am to blame. 

If things are not up to the (impossible) expectations I have placed them to be at, I have failed.

I am unworthy.

I am pathetic.

I am broken.

I am a failure.

I must work twice as hard, allow the slave-driver known as my mind beat my body twice as much.

I must not fail, not now, not ever.

I would much rather never let anyone know I am weak and need help.

I would much rather hide in corners, allow my emotions to take control for a few moments, then buck up and do it all over again.

But recently Jesus threw a curveball my way.

He allowed me to work myself in such a horrific, dizzying mess that I finally hit rock bottom and couldn't muscle the strength to climb out.

So there I sat, in a heap of clouded vision, overwhelming emotions which shook my body uncontrollably, feeling like the ultimate failure because I couldn't fix everyone else's problems and bottled up my own.

I soon found myself sitting alone in the late night, begging God for help, for vision, for clarity, for sanity.

For love...

As I sat, allowing the tears to freely flow, it dawned on me I had forgotten my Beloved.

I allowed earthly creations to replace my Creator.

I forged my own golden calves and worshipped them above my God.

I forgot who I am in Christ, and became the ragdoll pauper I thought I was.

As I sat there, Jesus did what He does best: Talk to me like a beloved daughter, and remind me how much He loves me no matter what I do.

He took away the scales of lies, allowing me once again to see myself as He sees.

I'm not sure how long it's been since I heard His gentle, loving voice--much less felt the warmth of His embrace. 

I'm not sure when the last time I remembered who I am not who I was.

I am a fixer, not by nature but by choice.
But, I praise God that he continues to love me, pick me up out of the graves I dig, and forgive me when I stumble once more.
Never who we were.

I chose to try and let my flesh fix things that are out of my control. 

This should never become a lifestyle cycle. 

This should be a lesson to all; you make the difference.

You make the choice to step out of the circle and turn 180 degrees.

You can turn away, be forgiven and repent of the sins you will commit no more.

It is possible, for He has already prepared the way.

It is possible, because He has already won and given us the victory.

It is possible for us to live by the guidance of the Spirit, rather than the feelings of our flesh.

We are forgiven, we are set free.

It is time for us to rise, stand up, give our lives, commit ourselves to the One who loved us so much He died so we may live.

We are no longer children of the dark, but sons and daughters of the Light.

We are alive.

We are more than conquerors, for Christ will conquer our battles for us.

We are who we ARE. 

We are soldiers, we are saints, we are Forgiven.

I am a conqueror. I mean, after all, my real full name means "victorious trustworthy lamb (of God)." 

-Saint