Actually... I'm feeling pretty broken right now.
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I wrote this a few days ago and figured I might as well finish it now.
I could go on and blame my problems on being a PK (Preachers kid), always feeling like I have to be perfect, not allowing people to see that I make mistakes, or see when i'm hurting and having trouble trusting God.
Truth is there is probably only a handful of people who really know me, and I'm so grateful for them! Whenever I fail others, them or myself they are always the first to pick me back up and help me set my path back toward God.
Through my dads past struggle with Alcohol, I constantly seen him get back up and follow God. I'm so very grateful for a mother who didn't give up on dad, and a father that didn't give up on the only one who could really save him from this Alcoholism. But more then anything, seeing my parents deal with the "backlash" of my dads falls and dealing with it, and not letting it overcome them, we are now able to be a Christian family that is not longer effected by this problem.
I gave my heart to God as a Christian Native youth, I've seen so many of my christian native friends fall and not rise again; fall into the native american stereotype. I've seen, heard and have been the one that gets talked badly about by the Christian and non christian families because of some of my childish screw ups.
There were many times that I was to blame, and so many times when I felt I should just "give up".
It was during these times that I learned to run, pretend and hide.
-Run somewhere new, somewhere i could start over and didn't have to keep looking into the eyes of people who couldn't let go of the mistakes i've made (or at least i couldn't forgive myself so it was hard to see others i may have hurt).
-Pretend like everythings was alright, maintaining an image of some sort of perfection, I became way too good at this.
-Hiding from myself, taking a back seat because I never felt "good" enough. Questioning Gods plan for my life; Why would he want to use me anyways?
Thats when i'm brought back to my father, he wasn't perfect, when he fell everyone knew, but he got back up. He taught me that I don't have to be perfect, but I do have to keep picking myself up and moving FORWARD.
I'm so grateful that the God's mercies are new every morning, and that its through Him I'm forgiven.
