the gift of mondays

i've walked away from God before. told Him i was done. told Him to leave me alone. i asked Him to go stand on the other side of the room. to not look my way. that when and if i was ready to talk to Him again, i'd let Him know. it was a bold moment for me. to look in the face of my Creator and let Him see my anger. my sadness. my disappointment. i had come to a moment when i thought my faith couldn't save me. when everything i ever believed was questioned and shaken and destroyed. one of my best friends had killed herself. she had taken a gun and shot herself. in the head. in the front seat of her father's car. while he was inside the store buying drinks for them, she decided to end it all. in some strange parking lot, all by herself, my friend's life ended. and from that moment on, mine was never the same. when they called with the news i didn't believe it. it's impossible to believe such a thing about someone you love. someone you've prayed with. so

for years i wanted to be oprah winfrey. well, not really her , but just like her. i love that she brings people together. she reunites families. she makes people feel good about themselves. i love that she makes people believe in dreaming big dreams. with her it seems like nothing is impossible. barriers are crossed. walls come down. people listen. for years i would dream of us meeting. of us becoming friends. of us saving the world. and then God woke me up. because i was dreaming of something that was more about me than it was about Him. it wasn't a slow waking up either. it was a quick, water splashed in my face moment. i even wrote it down so that i wouldn't ever forget. "God doesn't need you to be oprah. that's what He made her for. He needs you to be you. that's what He made you for."  "God needs you to be you." what a revelation. to think that God created me to be me . that He created me to dream my own dreams. to make my own path. that H

i think i was born without it. the gene that makes you hold onto anger and resentment. not that i don't get angry because i do. but it never stays. no matter what someone does to me, i can't hold onto being mad. i can't hold onto the pain. i call it my "15 minutes of madness" because that's all it seems to last. i never wake up the next day angry. a little sad maybe, but never angry. i think it's my dad's fault. when my sister and i were growing up he would tell us we couldn't go to bed mad. he would remind us that the Bible said to "not let the sun go down on your wrath." and so i've never gone to bed angry. ever. sometimes i've joked that "i guess i won't be going to bed tonight" but i've always forgiven before i closed my eyes. i think it's my mom's fault too. she died when i was six. she was 37 and she died in her sleep. something like that will change you for the rest of your life. i knew then that