I realized last week just how little people know about my story. It doesn’t define me, but I am who I am in large part because of it.

I’m passionate about what I teach because I’ve lived the transformation that comes from those teachings.

People see me now and because I don’t share my story often, they assume that faith and being hopeful comes easy.

I don’t live my life in the past, but my past has shaped my present and will shape my future. When you are in Christ and know who the Father is, you realize it’s not a bad thing because He has this amazing way of turning everything into gold – beauty from ashes

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been learning A LOT. And, with that, I’ve been intentionally seeking God for healing. Healing for things that are deep and embedded in me from moments that imprinted memories I may never forget.

While I may not be able to forget those memories, I can heal from the damage they have caused. That’s what I’m going after.

So, I will tell MY story because it’s mine to tell. Never do I have the intention to tarnish anyone’s reputation or bring shame to them. When I share my story, it is for two reasons; my healing and to help others know and find Hope. I will share my side of the story and how it impacted me. When I share actions done by someone, it is for the sole purpose of sharing MY story. In some cases, it’s impossible to tell those stories and teach those lessons without sharing the reality of what happened.

I won’t share names because their names are irrelevant to my story. I’m not attempting to alter anyone’s view of anyone else. I’m sharing my side of the story. They have their side or perception of the story, and it may be different from mine. That’s okay.

God knows my heart and that’s what matters. I’ve stuffed a portion of my story in a box worried about how it would effect characters that weren’t to blame. I’m tired of carrying that box around, so I’m unpacking it. I’m done pretending I don’t care. It did hurt and I’m ready to go through the work and the pain to heal.

I’ve lived in shame for something that was done to me. No more. I did nothing wrong. It’s not my fault. So, I don’t need to carry it around anymore.

It’s time I tell my story because woven within it is the red thread of God’s love.

My story is a story of hope – a story of love – a story worth telling.