Anonymous asked: Your writing absolutely breaks my heart. I am praying for you... I can relate to what you're going through and I wish you come to understand that you are loved. Jesus died for you and the pain you're experiencing now is nothing compared to the love He has for you. Stay strong, beautiful. (Psalm 139:14)

Dear anon, I don’t mean to break your heart! Writing just comes as therapy. Thank you for understanding; for reminding me of Romans 8:18 and Hebrews 5:2, for reminding me of truth; thank you for your prayers. They’re so greatly appreciated. 

I really love you, you know? I love you and I don’t even know you.

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We cry out and ask God to do what He is already doing.
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I’m already preparing myself for the conversation we (you— is there a you?) may have someday. Standing at the kitchen sink, silently weeping, I will be cleaning dishes with unsteady hands, but a glass will fall. As I pick up the shards, a piece will leave peace when it meets my hand, and I’ll hold my breath. It’s not pain, but relief that is the surprise; I’m still able to feel. I’ll turn to tell you, but you’re already looking at me with tears in your eyes; you were watching me while you dried. You don’t need me to say “I think I’m getting bad again,” because you noticed four days ago. You’ll hug me, strong and silent. I’ll ask what you’re thinking. You’ll say, “nothing, I’m praying.”

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People say they’re hungry for knowledge, and I’ve always wished I could say the same without feeling like I was lying. Sure, I love learning and what a gift it is to be both a learner and a teacher, but I have struggled with knowledge. I don’t crave it like good students do. I am hungry for…

This. Everything about this.

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I used to believe I couldn’t endure the pain.
That the constant twist in my chest was something I would never outgrow, would never find the strength to push away.
And so I would cave, I would dive into holes of addiction and ceaseless sorrow and dark walls surrounding me.

And yet, somehow time and hands reaching out to grab my own gently and slowly eased the ache that had long overstayed its welcome.

Tonight I am twisting and burning and everything within is threatening to come crashing,
And so I must remind myself of the times they held me, guided me, told me that I am someone worth loving.
The times they told me He still loves me, He never stopped.

And so tomorrow I will wake and ask that He tenderly untie all the knots I am harboring.
I will wake and ask that He remind me once more pain fades and He remains.

Untie me. (via nineteengoingon20)

(via nineteengoingon20)

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Do you ever have that moment when a kid is looking at you and you realize that they’re looking at you as a grown up? Then its like no child im a children too, dont. Im sorry my outward appearance confuses you.

(via alohomoramolly)

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everonlyallforthee asked: Hello Kati Rae. I only recently started following you, I just read your attempt to share how you feel, and, sister, I am nowhere near clicking the Unfollow button. Instead I will hold you in prayer as long as need be. (I do confess, however, that reading your post has left me with questions; do you mean that there is someone wanting to pursue you and that man has inevitably started, or sharpened, a conflict between you and your mother?)

Oh, Joshmarie. Thank you kindly. I could use it very much so. 

Oh dear, no! Haha I’m sorry for being confusing. I was just jotting down all the thoughts and feelings in my head. I have an unhealthy relationship with men, and it’s something I want to blame my mother for due to her highly active dating life I grew up under, but I know she isn’t responsible. I’ve just made very poor decisions in how I treat some dear friends- brothers in Christ. I haven’t shown them respect or love at all, and although I’m trying to be better, these mistakes from my past are still haunting me.

(I’m answering this publicly because I want to be transparent.)

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Lost followers after sharing my feelings.

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I don’t deserve marriage because of all the heartbreak I’ve caused.

I want to blame this on my mother, but she was lost and hurting too.

As I pulled my hair out in the shower, I hoped and hoped and hoped and hoped and hoped that somehow I was tangibly disposing of all the despicable parts of me.

Sometimes I wonder if I have a real psychological problem.

It scares me how easy it is for me to wander. 

It would have been easier to physically sleep with those countless hearts. 

Some of my heart’s deepest longings are coming true, and they’re more terrifying than I could have ever imagined.

I deserve every single ache my heart has ever sighed.

God, forbid anyone to love me.

I’m still so sorry.

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One of Those Wondering, Falling Folks