imagine your standing on the edge of a giant mountain. and then your falling. not from your own accord, but pushed off by another. and then you're left at the bottom of this giant mountain torn, battered, bruised. as you look up this mountain you took seventeen years to climb is now quite larger than you remember the first time. so you stay on the ground, inside the labyrinth of this world, never venturing to climb again.
then one day you begin to get tired of the ground. tired of the people beating you up, about the lies you have to tell how you made it down this path. you just want to get away. to be redeemed, but you don't know how.
and some small voice inside you says, "look up". and when you do you see a hand, reaching down to you. you hesitate; you fear the unknown. but you are desperate for someone to love you. so you take that hand and you hold on tight. and eventually you are climbing back up that cliff. it's a hard tough journey, but the hand never leaves you, when you slip, it's there to catch you.
you begin to doubt the intentions of the person behind the hand. why didn't he save me when i fell? why wasn't he there to pick me right back up?
and in a still small voice, he answered, "i was with the you entire way, from beginning to the end. My hand was reaching down the entire time, you just needed to look up to find Me."
this is my story. about a girl who fell down so far, she never dreamed she'd be worth it to stand atop the mountain again. but those lies are not true. the story of the butterfly is the story of how i grew wings. how one day i was a caterpillar, and then i was cocooned. inside that cocoon i formed my wings, each season of my life is a section of the wings i now fly on. and i could have never lived if it wasn't for our Heavenly Father. without Him, i am nothing. without His love and grace and mercy, i would be dead. i am alive for His purpose, for His kingdom.
