For those still languishing in the dark, afraid of what the daylight will bring.
I vividly remember that 15-year old high school kid facedown during worship, tears soaking the blue-speckled carpet beneath him, in anguish because his deepest secret made him unclean.
Just a few of the words I had heard used to talk about people like me, a scalpel of rhetoric slowly,
cutting away at my soul.
I remember that same kid four years later, kneeling at the foot of a cross, face soaked in despair, begging God to take this cup from him.
I hated who I was, but no one would have ever guessed. continue reading…