I Found the Cure

I found it.  I found the cure to all the brokenness, all the messiness, all the fallen wreckage of this world.  I found the cure to eternal condemnation, the cure to this imperfect world.

And man, I just want to burst out of this room and yell ridiculous things.  I want to dance till I pass out.  I can't take this creepy freakishly wide grin off my face.  I can't lower my volume.  I want to jump up and down.  I want it to be known to my friends, my family, my campus, this nation, this world - I found the cure and it is Jesus.

He broke me down so he could make me whole again.
He comforted me when I felt so alone.
He accepted me for my messiness and in turn, made me a beautiful masterpiece.
He reminded me I'm worth dying for.
He worked everything out for the greater good.
He reminded me that I'm beautiful and captivating.
He changed my heart.
He loved me enough to die for me.
He gave me everlasting life.

I can't keep it in.  I have to get up and run around and scream and shout.  I can't contain it.  Is it too good to be true? Not only is this cure available, it's also free.  MY EXCITEMENT IS JUST OFF THE ROOFS.

Let me make it clear - my life isn't all sunshine and butterflies.  In fact, there's a whole lot of rain most of the time.  My life isn't any easier and I still go through everything humans go through. We all try to pursue this goal of lifetime happiness but it's unattainable.  Nothing of this world will ever satisfy our needs - not money, not people's acceptance, not success, not society's perception of beauty.  Christ didn't just give me happiness.  He gave me peace and joy through tough circumstances.  He allowed me to hurt so that I could come out with an even greater story.

As of now, I still struggle with my self worth and my sins.  I make mistakes and I really screw up and sometimes I'm filled with guilt and shame. But God fixes all that for me.  I no longer have to be good enough.  I can't do anything to make him love me any more or any less than he already does.  And because of that, I don't know how to thank him enough than to glorify him in any way possible.  I'll sing for him, I'll dance for him, I'll love others because he loved me.  I'll forgive others because he forgave me.  I'll use what I have to glorify him and honor him.

I didn't deserve this cure.  But he gave it to me.  I didn't have to work for it.  How can I not be moved? How can I ever keep this silent? How could I be ashamed?

Even though my writing isn't creative, and nothing about me is perfect, because of Jesus, because of his sacrifice and his resurrection, I feel joy and peace and excitement and happiness and hope.

I feel free.