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Broken Covenant


Once upon a time—
I wanted to believe something was real
so desperately
that I silenced the Spirit within me
just to keep the illusion alive.


I saw every red flag—
not as warnings,
but as tests of how much 

I was willing to endure
to feel chosen.


I asked no questions
because truth was already whispering,
and I feared what obedience would cost me.


So I made a covenant with denial—
calling lies “grace,”
and confusion “patience,”
because the truth felt too vast,
too holy,
too disruptive to the future

I had built in my mind.


I clung to potential
like it was promise,
and mistook absence
for peace.


Yet the weight of it—
this thing I called love—
crushed my spirit daily.


Still, desperation dressed itself as loyalty
and convinced me to stay.


And it didn’t get better.
It decayed.
Quietly at first…
then unmistakably.


Each time God unveiled truth,
I chose the comfort of shadows
over the calling of light.


I pleaded.
I prayed.
I begged—
not for revelation,
but for permission
to remain where I was slowly breaking.


Morning after morning,
light would rise—
yet I felt swallowed by deeper darkness,
because disobedience dims 

even the brightest dawn.


I bartered my worth 

at the altar of acceptance,
shaping myself into something unrecognizable
just to fit inside a lie
that was never meant to hold me.


But God…


God would not let me perish
in something He never ordained.


He interrupted my illusions.
He dismantled my agreements with deception.
He set fire to everything false
until I could no longer sit comfortably
in what was killing me.


Truth found me—
again,
and again,
and again.


In quiet convictions.
In undeniable patterns.
In the breaking of my own heart.


And still, I tried to close my eyes—
as if blindness could cancel revelation.


But God.


God does not abandon His children
to the prisons they decorate.


He pursues.
He confronts.
He awakens.


He loves too fiercely
to leave you hidden
in what He’s called you out of.


So Lord, I thank You—
not for the illusion,
but for the interruption.


For the unraveling.
For the exposure.
For the sacred undoing
that led me back to You.


Because in that breaking,
You built in me
a deeper resolve,
a holy resilience,
and a clarity that no deception can survive.


You showed me the 

anatomy of selfishness—
how it hunts,
how it distorts,
how it disguises itself as love
while feeding on my light.


But more than that,
You revealed Yourself.


A love untouched by manipulation.
A love that does not require shrinking.
A love that frees,not binds.


Thank You, God,
that Your truth took root in me—
and refused to coexist
with anything that defiled my soul.


Thank you for continually exposing truth

until it was too loud to ignore.

And now I know—

Who the Son sets free
is not just free…
but restored,
renewed,
and returned to themselves again.

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