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Usually this time of year, I feel super sad and guilty about Christ’s death. Even the resurrection isn’t enough to round the rough edges of shame.

A little background on yours truly: I always envisioned myself as something of a bad ass. ‘Bout that life.

Real as the Streets, so to speak.

Being a stone cold bitch with deep pockets and shallow emotions was the route I was tryna go. But that wasn’t bad assery, that was cowardice.

Too scared to get close to anyone, because I might get hurt. Too scared to feel my emotions, so I had to numb them. Like a mouse scurrying at the mere thought of unpleasantness.

Now that I’m living a mostly sober life, I am faced with all the things I tried so hard to avoid. Forced to accept there’s no gliding through life without a few tears and scars.

Then there’s Jesus. He knew He would suffer and instead of running from the pain, He ran straight to it. Like David running toward Goliath.

The world shouted discouragement, but listening to the still small voice of God promising victory,  Jesus went to the cross. To suffer. To His death.

And He won.

There is going to be pain. A whole lot of it- but whatevs.

The trick is to be faithful, not fearful.

Cuz the faithful always win. #victory

*Rae

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