“Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us” 
(Psalm 62:8)

I know without a doubt that God has placed this on my heart for this moment. It is the underlining theme to my story. I have been meditating on this verse for a while, and now I get to share why; from one BeLoved to another.

I read Psalm 62:8, and while some find encouragement, I find my weakness. Every time I face trials, I find how little I trust in the Lords provision. His protection. His purpose. His promises. I remember the first time I told my story to a group of my peers. I was among a few who were asked to share how the Lord has used the ugliest parts of our past for His glory.

Needless to say, I was terrified.

I would have executed my escape plan if the doors had not been blocked. It was in this moment I failed to see the promise of God’s grace and mercy. I failed to see that my story could have purpose for God’s kingdom.

I failed to trust in the Lord’s sovereignty over my scars.

My friend’s impending opinions of me outweighed any thought of what God could do through me. I trusted in my fear which was telling me to keep my mouth shut and my heart closed off. In turn, I felt insecure, unsafe, and isolated. I had no refuge here.

I have now come to place where I have to constantly remind myself to POUR OUT MY HEART BEFORE HIM. This is not a pretty process. It’s overwhelming and sometimes gruesome. It is me sharing my desperately sick heart (Jer. 17:9). It’s me bringing my ugly thoughts, lustful desires, bitterness, hatred, selfishness, disbelief, lack of faithfulness before the Most High. Yet, there is no safer place for us to pour out our hearts than before our Father.

He is our refuge.

He is a safe place in the midst of our storm, and we can trust Him.

So, when I stood before my peers, all those years ago, exposing my wounds, with the strength that only the Holy Spirit could give, the Lord used my past to paint a picture of His forgiveness. What I thought would be intimidating was liberating. What I thought would be crippling was healing. When I expected to see judgment in the faces of my friends, I saw kindness. When I felt I deserved rejection, I was Loved. There is nothing better than inviting the Father into the darkest corners of our heart to begin healing. Even if it is painful. Even if it requires an invitation to others.

I share this not to dwell on my specific story, but to tell a reoccurring theme in my life. God’s love and work in my heart is most evident when I am most vulnerable before Him; when my heart is soft and ready to be molded.

When I come to the point where I clean out the filthy rooms of my heart and allow Jesus to dwell there, I hear Him call me BeLoved.