“You’re free to be you,” the woman said.
“You’re adopted into our family.”
“God is Gouda, thank you Cheesus,” she laughed.
And quite frankly the man had correct discernment and enough courage to tell me, “You’ve got an eating disorder.”
The woman cut off my hair for me one night as it didn’t make me holier. A few months later she trusted me to do the same to hers.
Jesus became my Rockstar (He is the Rock and the greatest Star! I was so excited about such a discovery!) and I was no longer scared to call God “Daddy” in place of “Heavenly Father.” To love reading books outside of the Bible became a joy to me again and I was reunited with the little girl I once used to be.
They were not perfect, but Christ in them was. They valued me and honored me. For the first time in life I was accepted, just as I was.
You see, today I had quite the therapy session. Mostly we talked about my relationship/resentment towards my mother. My therapist asked me, “So, what is it that led you to finally start valuing yourself and stop letting yourself get manipulated?” I knew what it was. A family in Africa demonstrated real love to me and light was shed upon my heart. The time spent with them has forever changed me and now I see in a way I couldn’t see before. The therapist says, “You speak of them so differently. You get such a big smile on your face. How did they make you feel?” I replied, “Accepted.”
The mom wasn’t a neat-freak. The dad watched a lot of TV. The children ran around noisily. But at the end of the day, the woman put her boys to sleep and sang to them and the husband waited for his wife. And they freakin loved each other. (Hannah I hope you read that <——)
They were the closest thing to Jesus people I had ever met.
(& then there was a very fun girl, a faithful sister-listener, and a couple from England that loved on me. they all were shining Jesus too.)