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I wish to say that loss was not something that is common to myself, but I would quickly be caught in a lie that goes to the innermost parts of my soul. I have felt loss down many roads that I have traveled and the emptiness that occurs with each one is a devastating blow that sometimes leaves me wondering if my heart is ever recoverable. Each time I lose hope, my Savior whispers ever so gently to my soul telling me that my heart is good...that this battle that enrages within myself only gets stronger as time goes by, but the good that overtakes it also becomes stronger and more fierce, fighting and never resting. See, I know that the battle that is fought will ultimately lead to victory, but the road to get there leaves me tired, hopeless at times, confused, and torn. Then, small victories come, victories that seem so little to others, but mean strength to me...strength to stand up once more, to forge ahead, and not worry about what is to come, or what was, but to live fully in each moment, because we cannot help what was or what will be, but we do get to choose the direction we go in. Nothing gives me more rest than knowing that God has given, God has taken away, God is yet to be revealed, and God is the author and perfector of my life. God loves me and I love Him and no matter where this life has taken me or will take me, I will fight for good, I will fight for what is noble and just, I will fight for my heart.


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