It's actually Tuesday, because Curly-Q's post inspired me.
Well, I'm going to dive into my post like Tom Daley dived into my heart in the London Olympics (because he's a diver...get it? ...anyone?....anyone...?...Bueller....?)
So can anyone guess what I'm going to post about?
Of course you can because you have brains. Unless of course the Zombie apocalypses has started by the time I post this and the zombies have eaten your brains.
In that case, let me confirm, I'm post about *pause for the dramatic affect* THP.
Alright, enough screwing around, time to get down to business.
Okay, so the Hartford Project was the most amazing experience of my entire life, for many reasons.
This past year, it has come to my attention that for my entire life there is one thing that I have always struggled with. One thing that has haunted me for as long as I can remember. As most of you know, I'm the youngest of 6. And don't get me wrong, I love my family. But the problem with being the youngest, is I've always had this huge inferiority complex. All the people I spent the majority of my time with knew more than me because, they were all older than me. So for as long as I can remember, I've felt like a complete and utter idiot. I was never going to be as smart as Laura or Mary-Kate so I didn't see the point in trying. And at certain times, I didn't see the point in living. I hung out with this really awful group of girls who made me feel like crap, because I was the smart one in the group, and it was nice to feel like I knew something for once. But these friends, they just hurt me. They made me feel alone. I know I shared some of this Tuesday night, but I'm going to share it again because I need to process this, so bare with me. I remember a particular day in the 7th grade, I was sitting on my bed staring up at the ceiling, and I cried out to God, I said Lord, send me someone. Send me a friend. And in the next year, Laurajay came back into my life, and we became far better friends, and that was amazing. But I still felt like I was missing something. And my faith was nowhere near where I wanted it to be. There where times were I felt like it was alright, but then it would fall apart again. And it went on like this for a while until a couple of months ago I just had this weird urge to read my bible. And from that way forward God began fixing the faith that was once so broken. And on Tuesday, at Glory Chapel, I realized God was that friend I was looking for. God was always there. God didn't think I was stupid. God loved me despite my brokenness and in that moment that was finally enough for me.
On a slightly unrelated note, for the past 3-ish months I've thought God was calling me to missions. Unfortunately, the clouds haven't parted and a divine voice hasn't been like "Rose go be a teacher in South America!" So I wasn't quite sure. So I've been praying for a while for God to send me a sign. And yes I've gotten some, but I was kind of hoping for like, a burning bush. And on Wednesday night, as you all know, this guy got up on the stage and was like "All of you who think God wants you to be missionaries and pastors and such things," (he didn't literally say that I'm paraphrasing) "Raise your hands." And that was my burning bush. I just remember this feeling of complete and utter joy. It was rather fantastic.
I could go on, but I shan't. I bid thee ado.
Grace, I'm looking forward to your post tomorrow!
Gurl please -Rose.
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