i hope my words are strange and wondrous,

like kisses that quiet all things superfluous,

so that we can all stop and

listen

and it was release.

a burden off my shoulders.

過去的，隨著時間會漸漸的變淡

雖然你撕破過我的一切，

我也變的堅強。

成為今天的自己。

所以我決定，

放開。

傷過我的你們，我永遠都不會忘記，

但是，早已原諒。

現在只會偶爾回頭敘敘舊

因為你們，

才有今天的我。

near the end of my sharing yesterday, i choked back emotion.

the last time i will ever cry for you.

because now its let go.

and i leave these words,

as a testament to your death.

your tombstone.

not to you as a person, because i love you still.

but to the finger you once pointed, and the hurt you once caused.

there are many "yous", and there are no more.

--------------

Tonight's theme is "True Love Stories"

And I love stories =)

So tonight I'm going to tell a story of a little girl. A little girl and a lot of love.

She was an awkward little girl, hiding behind thick glasses, bad teeth and awkward limbs.

He was the King of the Universe.

They first met before she could remember, but she wrote him a love letter the year she turned 5, and promised to stay with him for life.

Growing up in his love, she was happy.

She grew to be a cheerful, talkative, energetic sort of girl.

She read many books, played with dolls, she ran with the boys, and caught bugs.

And He watched over her all this time. And he loved her.

The year she turned 8, her parents told her the family was moving to China.

She was still young, and excited about going to new places.

And so they went. To a new school, a new city, a new country.

That year, she experienced many firsts.

Her first snow.

Her first bicycle.

Her first double-storey house.

She also met her first bully.

It was the first time, someone pointed a finger at her and called her “ugly”

The first time people turned their backs on her because they could.

The first time she was pressured into pleasing other people, to not be alone.

She was confronted with a problem she couldn't handle.

And she cried.

And He cried with her.

Over and over, she was belittled.

She was told she was ugly. She wasn't good enough. She was weird. She was annoying.

And she changed.

She stopped laughing.

She stayed at home, and played with her dolls, and her books.

And she hated herself.

Because she was ugly. Because she couldn't be like them.

For two years, she lived life afraid.

That today they would decide they didn't want to talk to her.

That they would find something new to laugh at.

She became insecure, and scared.

And so on days that they targeted someone else.

She joined them.

Relieved that for just a while, someone else had to deal with the problem.

And she pointed her finger and laughed along.

And went home, and saw that she was ugly.

When she turned 10, they left. Moved away.

She was liberated from their bullying.

And she made friends, good friends. Friends that loved her. That treated her with respect.

She was still insecure, so she joined clubs. She worked hard to excel in school.

She talked to many people, hyped her energy up, tried to be the life of the party.

She wanted to be somebody.

She still felt ugly.

Sometimes she stood in the bathroom, and taking off her glasses she would lean into the mirror,

and look hard at herself.

Thinking, “Do I look that bad?”

She turned 12,

life was good.

She had friends, she grew her hair out.

She excelled at school.

She had replaced her thick glasses with contact lens.

And left her ugly boxed up in her washroom.

She continued to build up her reputation. Her safety net.

Walls of achievement, so no one would say she was ugly.

This was bad.

And he knew it. So he told her parents what to do.

And her parents told her.

“We're moving.”

She cried into her pillow.

And He cried with her. Sad that she was so upset.

But slowly, she grew angry.

She left the house whenever the family discussed packing.

She created the ugliest faces possible to use at the dining table, a sign of her displeasure.

And inside she berated Him, argued with him.

“Why God Why”

“Why take it all away...don't you know how hard it's been?”

“I've been doing good. I'm becoming more than those who laughed at me ever were. Why.”

He answered,

“I love you”

but she was too busy crying to hear him.

And so they moved.

She sulked and cried some more.

She yelled at her parents, she hated them. Hated them for ruining everything.

She hated her life, she hated Him.

She hated herself.

Because she was scared.

Scared to start over.

Scared to see new faces.

Scared to make new friends.

Scared that the walls would fall.

The first day of school came around, and nobody wanted to sit with her.

And she thought to herself, “No God. Please no.”

She met a few people, but she didn't get close.

Most people just stayed away.

An occasional bully would sneer at her in the hallway.

Make a hurtful comment. On her looks, her personality.

She stayed in her room, and sat in her anger.

Stuck, in a hole she dug for herself.

A depression.

At school one day, they held an outreach.

And she decided to go.

She didn't remember much of what happened, except that the speaker said something,

that moved her to pray.

She hadn't thought about Him in a while.

Except to complain to, about how everything was ruined.

She told him she was tired, tired of being angry.

Tired of being depressed, of being alone.

Tired of hating herself, of hating Him.

He answered.

“I love you.”

And she heard him.

And inside, peace... that beautiful comfort.

Peace like a wave, washed her soul clean.

So much peace.

And that moment. Was one of complete silence.

As He reached out and covered her in love.

And she told him,

“I'm sorry. love you.”

He said to her, “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

And then he told her,

“You are beautiful. You are beloved. And I have plans for you.”

And she cried.

That was, is not the end of the love story, although that's all I'm going to talk about for now.

It is not a fairy-tale, so it doesn't end with “happily ever after.”

Well it does, but its a lot more complicated than that.

I still struggle with insecurity sometimes.

There have been others, who have come along and pointed the finger, “ugly”.

Today I still look in the mirror, and some days, dislike what I see.

Today I still sweat and get nervous, whenever I have to meet new people. And I fear what they think.

I fight off self-pity everyday.

The one change that makes all the difference however,

is that I have joy.

A joy that bubbles over to give me strength to battle myself.

To walk into a room full of strangers and smile regardless of my sweaty palms.

To look at the person who pointed the finger, and reach out to shake their hand, and say “Let's be friends”

A joy that makes the girl in the mirror a beautiful one.

I have joy, because of His peace. Because of His love.

Because wherever I am, wherever I go, whatever I feel.

He looks at me the same. He always has. And He he always will.

In Love.