the moment you decided to let love in.

listening to:

Better Days &

Let Love In

by The Goo Goo Dolls.

a cage.

a cage is a place that keeps you trapped.

and because you can't leave it, you have nothing better to do than think about how you got there in the first place. and how you're never getting out. ever.

months and months ago, i thought i had been set free. i thought i was gonna be okay. all set free, and okay. i thought i was done healing.

and then some things happened. things happened, and Satan locked me in a second cage. a cage that told me i was worthless. told me i was guilty and should feel shame.

for three months, i had lived in that same cage. and i felt like the cage was shrinking, and i couldn't breathe. i was slowly suffocating and i didn't know what to do. i didn't think it would be safe to tell anyone, so i didn't. for a very long time.

but then i did.

finally, i trusted someone.

and they told me the truth.

they said i wasn't guilty. that it wasn't my fault. that i was gonna make it.

but i didn't understand at first.

it took him saying it over and over and over again for my to even start to listen to him.

it took a week for me to start to believe him.

and it's taken about three for me to start feeling freedom.

" love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." 

(first corinthians 13:7)

i was used to people finding me in a cage, but letting me stay there. not doing much, or anything at all to help me.

and i was expecting it with him, my friend. i was preparing my heart.

but he didn't.

he didn't just walk away like the rest.

it didn't matter how many times i tried to give him reasons not to believe what he was telling me, which was that i wasn't guilty. he didn't give up. he kept trying. and in the end, it did click.

and the door of my cage was unlocked. on rusty hinges, it creaked open.

timidly, cautiously, i peeked out of that cage. but he took me by the hands and tried- and is still trying- to get me to come all the way out. so that no part of me is left inside anymore.

and slowly but surely, i'm stretching my wings.

and he's showing me how to use them.

i never understood, or really ever felt the true impact of first corinthians 13:7. until this friend came along side me, to help me.

then i got it.

and when i hear this verse, i think of him. he heard my story. he didn't judge it, he didn't walk away. he bore it. he carried the burden with me.

he believed i could heal. he believed i wasn't at fault.

he hoped with me. that there was healing and that i would find it.

he endured every part of it. he listened to all the pain and all the frustration and the anger that came with my story. as i told it, he stayed by my side.

and i don't think he'll ever quite fathom how much that means.

because it means the world.

it means i'm getting out of the cage, and seeing the world for the first time.

it means i can live again.

it means i'm letting love in again.

it means that trusting someone for the first time in a long time was one of the best decisions i've ever made, and will ever make.

it means i'm gonna be alright.

it means i can relax. be still. and be calm.

because i know that if i fall back again- when i do fall back again- there will be arms to catch me.

these days i know God is never letting me go. and that is enough.

but there is something really wonderful and amazing and special, too, about having a hand there to hold when you need it most. a shoulder to cry on. a heart to trust in.

that, too, is irreplaceable.