His name is Jesus

I remember there was a time I couldn't say the name Jesus. Church hurt in a combination with hurt from my family. It seemed like when I was hurting the most everyone around me was calling that name. I guess I figured if they knew him, I didn't want anything to do with him. Knowing him didn't change their character for the better. I actually tied every form of abuse with his name. I thought my life would be better if it no longer involved.

There was a point even though I was healing. I did everything I could do on my own. I had been talking to God, but something was missing. Rather someone was missing. His name is Jesus or Yesua. It wasn't until I started calling his name that the things I was talking to God about began to fall into place. Also lifting the weight of everything I was carrying. I was able to let things go that I had been carrying for years because I was reminded someone walked this earth, loved us unconditionally, and died for me. So, I could know God for myself. That I no longer had to bear the weight of the ones before me but answer for myself.

Now when I hit a hard time I know where to go. I'm not saying it is easy. I'm still human and still wonder why this happened to me. I also know with Jesus I'm equipped better than I ever was on my own. I have a faithful, dedicated, consistent, loving, no nonsense confidant I can go to. That I can pour out my heart to without judgement. Now I know he be side eyeing me sometimes because I know the answer or no better, but he still listens. His death caused the Holy Spirit to be able to flow through me. Not to just be able to connect to God but carry him. Know him inside and out. I owe my life for that and I give it full heartedly.