Broken Identity

Who had I become? The question lingered in my mind and had my stomach in knots. There I was again….at the intersection of super-analyzing lane on overthinking boulevard. Unbelief. Dire discontent. In need of refreshing. In need of mind renewal. The person I had become didn’t know who she had become. I was evil. Bitter. Resentful. Full of anger. Who was I? I didn’t even recognize her in the mirror.

Whewww….she was someone I had never met. She was someone that I wanted to die a quick death only because she had me dying. She had me in a place of anxiety and being overwhelmed with grief. I had no idea who she was…who she had become. She wasn’t important. She had no respect for herself. She let anyone and everyone into her sacred space. She had no peace. She was in pieces. Broken. Identity shattered. Broken identity.

Among being misunderstood, she was finding herself so how could anyone really understand her. She didn’t understand herself. But she began to put away childish things. She began to see the difference. She treated herself with respect. She loved who she was becoming. She gave way to the new her. She cast away the old, never to return to that place again. She was in a new land. Refreshed. Renewed. Revived. And this time suffering for Christ alone…not for what she had done. Her well experience was over and she knew that she had had an encounter with a King…one that provided living water. No longer was she thirsty…no longer was her identity broken. She was being put back together by the master weaver of the universe. Whole. Healed. Free. Thriving. She. Her. Me.


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