Breaking my own heart.

Yesterday, I deleted everything. I felt numb and questioned why I even write.

It wasn't a great day.

I haven't had one like that in a long time. Today, I feel differently. After a friend commented that she couldn't leave a comment on my post (because I had deleted it), I realized these aren't about me. God is using me to give comfort to others. To show that they're not alone. To make them see things differently, maybe from a Biblical perspective for the first time.

Who am I to tell the potter that enough is enough?

I've talked about self-sabotage before, how I'm the queen of it. I often second-guess myself, mired down in my own incapacities. Motherhood is hard. Mothering a teenage daughter? Even harder. And I don't have a long history with children, how they grow and sometimes turn on you, and how your heart has to be guarded and resolved.

Thank God for...well...God.

There was a voice yesterday, small and still. It said there will never be a point where I'm perfect enough to do this. I just have to do this. And that's all there is to it.

So here I am, doing this, whatever this is. Writing words, recording words, breaking my own heart, and watching God get to mending it.

I am tired, so exhausted. And wondering where we go from here.

I have a feeling He'll let me know.