When I was much younger, probably fifteen years old, I remember hoping that something horrible would happen to me. I imagined some near death experience or act of God would be all it would take for me to finally grasp the true meaning of my life and start living in freedom. Then perhaps I could go on to become an amazing inspiration who would write books, go on OPRAH and finally afford pistachios. I also remember questioning why God wasn't allowing something drastic to change my perspective? He could if he really wanted to, so he must not have wanted to because he wasn't.

In fact he was allowing drastic things in my life that could have and should have shifted my paradigm. I just don't think I was very receptive. I was too occupied with how much I despised everything including myself and thought the world was the true problem. I was unable to accept the fact that I was worth something inside and failed to believing that I was beautiful. I allowed my loneliness and confusion to rule my heart and had no courage to fight for the truth. What I have come to realize is that I was living a tragedy all along. Why couldn't I have just been inspired by my own life?

Now having gone through an actual tragedy of my own I can say that I truly have been inspired by my own life. This season so far has awoken some sort of courage inside to face life with more faith and less fear than ever. This has been such a painful yet refining process and I know that I have only slightly begun to peel back the layers. I am giddy to procede.

Why was I convinced that a tragedy was the one thing that would make me new? Ironically it did take facing death for me to be able to tune into something meaningful? I don't regret that my life hasn't taken this turn until now, but I do hope that I have learned to be more receptive and seek to know who God is, not seek to know all the answers.