Rewind 20 years.
If someone was to ask me “How do you imagine life in 2017?”- my answer would probably consist of something along the lines of flying cars and trips to the moon first class.
Fast forward 20 years.
2017 consists of a generation filled with insecure women who have completely lost their sense of identity.
I hate needles. Maybe despise is a better word.
The bigger the needle, the bigger the panic attack.
But the day came when I had to go to the ER.
Dehydration got the best of me and the nurses decided to stick me with a needle the size of a ruler called an IV.
I cringed. I begged. I cried.
I wanted this thing off of me.
Little did I know the very thing that was hurting me, served to make her stronger.
For the 4th time that hour it replayed in my mind. But the more I pressed rewind, the more I altered the details.
I remember facing this weird, Eve/Serpent moment in my life where I was questioning what God really said in the first place. Now more than ever, I needed Him to repeat, reaffirm, and give me a sign that this promise that I thought I heard wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.
Smack dab in the middle of the most traumatizing event of my life, when I needed him the most, God decided to remain quiet.
I’ve avoided writing this post for a while now. Maybe because I’m petrified of falling in love.
Or maybe it’s because I’m selfish.
There. I said it.
My feet wouldn’t touch the ground.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t exactly defying Newton’s law of gravity but my life sure felt like it.
I remember reaching a place in my twenty-somethings where everything seemed gray. I was floating. Dreams and plans that were once confidently black or white, turned into a nauseating shade of gray and left me wondering how God’s faithfulness played in this.