My hell-bent healing in a hand-basket

I quit writing my own story a long time ago.  It was very boring.  Predictable.  Over stated and under-truth.  It was really dead.  I let God start writing my story without even realizing it.  He showed me where I made up the part of the story that made me sound credible.  The truth is.  Nothing I ever did ended up in victory. 

When I gave my story to God to write he put a spin on it.  He gave me a whole lot of real, hard-truths about who I had become.  The truth is I wasn’t victorious at anything.  Nothing.  I learned during this molding process that the only part of my life where I really succeeded in was the things that mattered most to God.  The eternal stuff.  The big stuff.  My purpose in this life. 

My purpose was to be xyz.  I wanted to be this or that.  Turns out.  Everything I wanted for myself went to hell in a hand-basket.  Through hell God brought me healing.   Healing in areas I had no idea I wasn’t healed in.  I was suffering.  I was hiding and I was not victorious.  My victory in His eyes moved mountains.  Those victories are worth hell-bent healing.