Faith wasn’t my strength.

My heart didn’t understand it and my thoughts couldn’t comprehend an idea that was overused and underlived. It presented itself to me as a code word only used by those sitting in the cushioned pews with the well kept Bible resting orderly beside them.

And it wasn’t a part of my life.

So I walked and believed that I wasn’t a woman with enough faith, a woman who wasn’t spiritual or holy enough to stand firm on all that word represented. It was just an idea that I would hide in the closet until I desperately needed it or could finally understand it.

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It felt like the first day of school. I was the new kid; shy and hesitant and completely unsure of why I was even there. The excitement of a new chapter in my ever continuing story was hiding behind the nervous thoughts and insecure notions bouncing around my head; “would they even like me?”

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I came to Georgia with very few expectations. I made the trek across three and a half states because I knew it was what I needed in the next season of my life despite not knowing what it looked like or why it had to be Georgia.

I mean. I really like Texas.

But I came, following the eastward path of open doors laid out before me, not having any idea what He had in store.

It didn’t take long for Him to give me a little hint.

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