You know the me that smiles and laughs.

You know the me that shows up and fights for herself.

You know the me that sits in the back, blending in with the crowd.

You know the me that holds it all together.

You know the me that is strong and independent.

You know the me that works hard and pushes through.

But do you really know me?

Do you know the me that cries and behind that smile is a hurting heart?

Do you know the me that is tired of fighting and wants to give up?

Do you know the me that is scared to fully be herself and that is why she sits in the back just hoping she won’t be noticed?

Do you know the me that can’t take on another thing because she will drop the ball on everything if she does?

Do you know the me that’s weak and feels like her world is falling apart?

Do you know the me that is tired and exhausted and just needs a moment to rest?

Do you know the real me?

Do you know the me that’s not perfect?

Do you know the me that needs a savior?

Do you know the real me?

You may not really know me and that’s okay, but there is one who does.

He sees my tears and collects each one.

He mends my broken heart.

He fights my battles when I can’t.

He sees me and fully looks at me in every state of life and in every emotion I carry.

He brings me rest, restores my soul, and brings peace over my mind.

He sees the innermost part of my soul and still loves all that is there

Dear younger me,
It’s been five years now. Since the night you turned 25. I wish you would have known then how much you are loved. But then again, would we be who we are today if not for that night? You were running from yourself. Running from the pain. Running from the one who loved you the most.

I know drinking and partying felt like the way out—to forget, to numb. Running into a strange man you didn’t know. Blacked out. Found down. But the strange man didn’t get you that night. No! You were rescued, saved, and taken in. The bartender who was smoking a cigarette outside saw you lying on the cold, hard, gravel. He stood up for you and brought you inside. You made it home that night—safe and alone.

Dear younger me, this is the night that changed everything. The night you knew God was looking out for you. The night He rescued you. Not just your physical body, but your soul. This was the night that began the journey of true self-worth. You, my dear, are so loved. You made it out. You put the bottle down. You stopped chasing men. You found the very thing you’ve been searching for all along. Freedom, love, and a savior.