I don’t have a polished testimony. I don’t believe anyone does. Mine still has dirt under its nails, tear stains on its pages, and prayers that never made it past my lips. There are parts of my story I don’t know how to explain... how to tell others. Chapters I didn’t think I’d survive. Memories that still catch in my throat when I try to speak them out loud. But thanks be to God for pulling me through. I feel it deep in my bones, that God never asked me to be shiny. He never waited for perfection... He asked me to be real and simply myself. In the raw moments. In the wreckage. In the seasons where I thought I was too far gone or too messy to matter... He stayed. Thanks be to God for pulling me through. He saw the fight it took just to keep breathing. The strength it took to show up when no one else saw the cost to my life. So no, I don’t have a tidy before and after. And that’s okay for my Lord and Savior. For, I have a testimony that’s still being written. One that’s honest, unfiltered, and held together by His grace. Thanks be to God for pulling me through. I feel it deep in my bones, that God never asked me to be shiny. He never waited for perfection... He asked me to be real and simply myself. In the raw moments. In the wreckage. In the seasons where I thought I was too far gone or too messy to matter... He stayed. Thanks be to God for pulling me through. Thanks be to God for pulling me through. I don’t have a polished testimony. I don’t believe anyone does. Mine still has dirt under its nails, tear stains on its pages, and prayers that never made it past my lips. There are parts of my story I don’t know how to explain... how to tell others. Chapters I didn’t think I’d survive. Memories that still catch in my throat when I try to speak them out loud. But thanks be to God for pulling me through. I feel it deep in my bones, that God never asked me to be shiny. He never waited for perfection... He asked me to be real and simply myself. In the raw moments. In the wreckage. In the seasons where I thought I was too far gone or too messy to matter... He stayed. Thanks be to God for pulling me through. God asked me to be real and simply myself. In the raw moments. In the wreckage. In the seasons where I thought I was too far gone or too messy to matter... He stayed. Thanks be to God for pulling me through. Thanks be to God for pulling me through.