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.