When the Rainstorm Hits

As I sit here my eyes are heavy and my head is running a hundred miles an hour with a million things to do. Truth is I am a list girl and my lists are piling up. And when my lists pile up so do my perfectionist tendencies, so do my worries, so do the lies. For the past week I have been worn out emotionally, physically, spiritually, in all areas in my life and when I am worn down bad habits start to creep up. And instead of being honest and open with people, I shut down and I shut up. I don’t say how I am really doing and I put on the Miss Perfect Hat. I let little things get to me and I start to only see things as right and wrong in my life or as black and white. So what am I doing instead of listening to the overwhelming lies in my head? I am sitting down and talking to you dear friends. Because maybe you’ve had a week like mine. Maybe you need to hear this as much as I do.

When everything in my life seems uncertain, I do the one thing that make life feel more certain to me…I control. I control my relationships, I control my behavior, my decisions, even my wardrobe. Honestly, it’s not bad to plan to be well prepared but I take it to the max when I feel the need to control. In the past Ed, was the master at this he knew just how to control my life tugh negative food behaviors. Even being strong in recovery for three years, there are days in the midst of uncertainty that I have to sit back and take in the truth and not listen to the lies that start to creepin. Because the fact is, I don’t believe them anymore and I don’t live by them. However, when I am worn down and fragile they have a way of breaking through the steel trap door which I have locked them deep behind.

Maybe you have struggled with Ed, maybe you haven’t but I think we can all understand the desire to control when everything seems out of control. Here is the bad thing though, when I lean into the control I lean into my perfectionist qualities. When I lean into my perfectionist self I don’t like who I become. That MK always has an answer for everything, she has to constantly have her hair and wardrobe perfect, she has to always say the right things, she is irritable, she can’t mess up, and she certainly cannot share her mess. She becomes more focused on the results and not the relationships and people in her life. That MK, cannot leave the house in yoga pants, she cannot relax when she is with friends, she cannot stand when one thing in the house is out of place, she can’t sit still, she can’t be really present, and she cannot deal with imperfection. Let’s be real, that MK is NO fun to be around!

There are times when my life is just more messy than usual. There are times where the pain and past wounds seem to still sting. There are times where I just cannot catch my breath and the last few weeks have been like that. Don’t get me wrong there has been a lot of joy and wonderful times in the past few weeks. I have always been a glass more than half full girl. I can tell you all about the sunshine and the roses but today I need to tell you about the rainstorm because that is just as real. We don’t talk about the rain and hail, especially in the midst of it, so I am going to take a big leap of faith and do just that. In the midst of the rain, when I cannot see the sun, life is hard and my desire is to control and when I control I become the worst version of myself. However, I don’t have to be that controlling person, but that takes major effort.

It is during the rainstorm that I have to take time to rest, to practice self-care, to be still, and to know that taking care of my self, especially when life is hard, is NOT selfish. If we don’t give our bodies time to rest, to feel all the emotions that come with uncertainty and to work through them, then we are doing ourselves a huge disservice. For me unwinding is reading a favorite book curled up with a cup of coffee, it is watching cheesy ABC family sitcoms, it is a glass of wine and a chat with my best friend, its a nap in the middle of the day, it is praying, it is singing at the top of my lungs to my favorite song. Those are all healing for me, however I will say this healing activity can soon turn into numbing. I know all about numbing from my years with Ed and I never want to go back there. So I build in me time but I also don’t let it take over. Because lets be real, I could sit and read for days, I could lay in bed and watch every episode of every TV show ABC family ever created, but that wouldn’t be helpful and it would certainly check me out to life and I don’t want that. So I rest and take time to heal but I don’t numb out.

This coming week I am striving to be the more balanced MK. The MK that doesn’t freak out when her plans go awry, the MK that can get ready in ten minutes, the MK who doesn’t focus on what she eats. And here is the secret, I will slip up this week and want to go back to the control and so will you, because we aren’t perfect. Each slip up though reminds me that instead of focusing on what I did wrong there, I have a chance to do it right the next time. And in allowing myself to mess up I give myself grace and with that grace comes rest, and when I rest I loosen my grip on the control and perfection because I don’t need them anymore. That is what I wish for you this week my friend, that you would show yourself grace and give yourself rest. Rest in whatever way you need to and loosen your grip on control because control destroys. Know not only can you do it this week but also I will be there with you doing it and cheering you along.

Sending you love,

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My Best Friend Ed

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For twelve years, I lived a secret life, a life that I promised to let no one in on. I lived a life of darkness, of fear, of shame. I was battling an illness that not even my closest friends and family knew I faced….Read the rest of the story on my sweet friend’s blog…

http://girlrepurposed.com/free-from-my-best-friend-ed-my-eating-disorder-im-broken-guest-post/

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Why I Won’t Call You Skinny

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I remember the first time I heard the words that will stay with me forever. I remember the smile on the woman’s face as she looked at me with envy and I remember the pride that exuded from me that day thinking I had just won a gold metal. What were those words? No they weren’t you are amazing. No they weren’t you are so smart or kind. They weren’t even you are beautiful. Those words which held me in a death trap for over a decade were, “You are so skinny!”

I was ten years old and standing in the school hallway before class. A former teacher looked at me and gushed as she told me how skinny I was, how much weight I had lost, and how incredible I looked. I learned on that day; skinny was to be praised, skinny was noteworthy, skinny made people stop and notice, skinny was what I should strive to be. My heart breaks and I literally feel sick as I think of that young, innocent girl holding her princess backpack as her grasp of beauty begins to slip through her fingers.

I think if only the teacher had known I lost weight because of mental issues that were weighing me down, if she had only known each day at lunch I traded my home packed lunch for half of a subway sandwich (that a girl who’s mom was on the subway diet gave her each day). And if only she knew once I was given that six-inch sandwich I never managed to eat half of it. If only she knew, ironically the same year, I learned about how important skinny was I also learned what eating disorders were. However, I never even dreamed I could have one, because I wasn’t an emaciated Ballerina and I didn’t throw up my food, so how could I have a problem. That same year I would stand outside my Reading Class with a headache so terrible I could barely focus because I had eaten nearly nothing that day. However, the only thought which crossed my mind was “If this is what it takes to be skinny, it is worth it”.

For over a decade I would believe the lie, “skinny was the best thing possible”. Skinny fueled my Ed. I would try to brush off every compliment related to my size. I would deny it when someone said I was smaller than them. Shrug my shoulders when size “x” didn’t fit me. I would laugh when someone asked me for my diet and exercise tips. Inside, I would be thrilled. I was ecstatic of the praise and attention. Proud that my size had earned me this “privilege”.

Secretly though, I was dying physically, mentally and emotionally. I thought in order to be loved, in order to be valued, in order to be praise worthy I needed to stay this skinny. It was a losing game because no matter what the number on the scale said, no matter how small the size got, no matter how many people complimented, it wasn’t enough. And even more, the skinnier I got the more I lost MK. I had no idea what true beauty was and that it had nothing to do with the size you were.

Looking back I don’t blame the woman who stopped me in the hallway, she didn’t cause my eating disorder. My Ed was about so much more than that. That woman merely played the part that society has taught us to play. We are taught from an extremely young age that beauty and (even more) size are important. We are taught that it defines our worth and who we are.

What if I told you it didn’t though? What if I told you striving for skinny and even more perfection won’t get you anywhere but heartache. If you know me today you know no matter how much weight you may have lost or gained, I will never comment on your size. I will never tell you how skinny you are. I will never say you look like you’ve put on weight. Because I don’t believe commenting on people’s sizes is appropriate in any way, shape, or form. Because I don’t believe your view of beautiful should be determined by a comment, or a magazine, or by comparison.

When we take time out to comment on something we are stating what we feel is important to say. Worth is put in our words. I never want someone to think they are valued for their size. Because size doesn’t define worth. Size doesn’t define beauty.

May you know you are beautiful for millions of things but your size should never dictate your beauty. And may we work together to stop using words like skinny or fat or commenting on size in general.

And may you always remember how loved and worth it you are,

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What Is Love

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I think we would all being lying if we said we hated the idea of love, of falling in love, of being in love, of love stories. In reality, I think it’s hard to hate an idea that centers around us being cared for, cherished, adored and frankly loved. We all long for that. Our culture is filled with romantic sitcoms and movies, it seems it’s on every billboard and it’s around every corner. The wedding industry is booming and Valentine’s day is celebrated by millions. However, what if I told you love doesn’t just happen once a year on a special day. What If I told you it’s an all year, every minute kind of thing. And even more, what if I told you love is not a feeling but it’s a choice…

I would be lying if I said that somewhere deep down inside I don’t long to be a princess. In fact, I used to think love was this fairy tale princess story that ended with a Happily Ever After and a ride off into the sunset with my Prince Charming. If you had asked me what love was two years ago that is exactly what I would have told you. It was Happily Ever After, tied with a beautiful bow around it. Now I know better. My friends, that is not love, because love is a choice, love is an action.

In fact, nearly four months ago I did marry the man of my dreams and I did have a fairy tale day but my marriage to sweet Brett has even more confirmed that love is a choice we make everyday. Because for any of you that have been married, had kids, had close friends, you know, laundry piles up, work days are grueling, you don’t always agree and life is hard. Feelings get hurt and we say things we didn’t mean, and it is in those moments that we have a decision to make, to keep loving. Brett and I stood up on that altar four months ago and we made a decision to love each other even when days are hard and we don’t feel like it and for that I am forever grateful.

However, I am not just talking about love with your significant other, I am talking about love with your friends, with your community, with your parents, with your extended family, with your kids, with yourself. I no longer hold the belief that love is this mushy, gushy feeling. If that were true then love would last very briefly. In the last few years (and even more in the last four months) I feel like I have gotten a crash course in love and what it means to love others and have them love you back.
I once had a conversation with a friend who told me that loving someone should be easy, it shouldn’t take work, it shouldn’t be messy and we should just have that love feeling. I tried to explain that was the opposite of what I believed love to be, because, love was all of those things, messy, hard, complicated, work, and it was anything but a walk in the park. We are human, we mess up and we are in no way perfect so why should love with other people be anything but imperfect. I believe there is only one true perfect love, filled with grace and that is from a Savior much bigger than any of us. So when it comes to imperfect people love is difficult. We often give up easily because love requires grace. It requires looking at someone and seeing their imperfections and loving them all the same.
Every day we wake up and we have a choice to dig deep with people. We have a chance to roll up our sleeves and walk through the messiness of life hand in hand. We have a chance to forgive and keep forgiving. We have a chance to live out grace. We have a chance to not treat others in ways they have treated us. Sometimes it gets really messy, sometimes it requires us to do things we don’t want to do, awkward things. It may require kindness to a stranger, it may be asking to help with a task you absolutely cannot stand, it may be physically cleaning up a mess, it may be time consuming. Each time we dive in and show that kind of love we are giving people a chance to see that beautiful face of grace and love.

Earlier this month, I got to spend time with one of my favorite friends who is beautiful inside out. She has mentored and loved me unconditionally. She has held me when I cried. She has talked me through the toughest times, shared her family and seen past my flaws. Most of the time I had nothing to offer her back but my mess and she still chose to roll up her sleeves, pick me up and help me out of my mess. She made a choice to love me when I was unlovable. That my friends is love, when we have nothing to offer and someone comes in sacrifices for us and scoops us up in their arms and makes a choice to love us.

Sometimes we forget to extend this same courtesy to ourselves. It is easiest for us to love others and not ourselves. My friends I want to remind you to extend that same grace and love to yourself, even when you are a mess and feel at your worst. You too need love, even from yourself. Real love is hard even for ourselves because it requires sacrifice. It may mean that we don’t get to watch a marathon of our favorite TV shows, maybe it means putting part of your paycheck into something less fun than a rainy day fund, sometimes it means telling the honest truth in grace and risking a relationship. That is where we often get caught up in a predicament, we are all about love, until it affects our bank accounts, our home, our time. I want to challenge you friend, true love requires this sacrifice. It means loving when the person isn’t deserving. It means loving when you want to quit. It means loving despite the fact that the other person can do nothing for you. It means loving the mess of a person laying in bed, who hasn’t showered, has bad breath and greasy hair. That is love.

This week I hope you think about the ways you can love others…truly love others, ways you can sacrifice and love people when it isn’t fun. It might seem hard and weird but just remember it is not a feeling you’re going off, it is a choice, it is an action. And as you begin to love others this week I have a feeling you will really begin to live and I pray you get that love and grace you are dishing out, served right back to you.
And may you ALWAYS REMEMBER…

YOU are LOVED!

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Remembering Why

 

When I was a sophomore in college I wrote a book. I never published it, in fact I never wrote it down because truth be told it was all in my head. I worked at a doctor’s office and that summer as I typed up documents, filed patient’s charts, scanned paperwork and worked silently, I “wrote” my book. I thought about everything I would tell young women and men who struggled. I knew even then that your story mattered and was worth telling. Years went by, and I put the book on the shelf, never to be published or read. Because it is tough to tell your story and it is scary but even through the pain and tears it is what we have to do.

Nearly two years ago, I started this blog to tell my story and in doing that I did one of the bravest things I’ve have ever done, I told my story to the world. I thought it stopped there. I thought if I shared my story here I wouldn’t have to keep doing it. I wouldn’t have to continue to be real and vulnerable. I wouldn’t have to continue to open myself up to others but I was wrong. Because my story is about leaving perfection and learning grace. It is about a journey through recovery. It is about saying that some days are extremely hard and tear worthy and some days are filled with sunshine. But even more it is saying that my story in no way, in no manner is about me. It is about a grace so big that it wipes away all my shame and says you are made clean. You are not your eating disorder, you are not your depression, you are not your anxiety, you are not your past mistakes and shame because you were made clean by grace. You are dearly loved and always will be.

So because I know that grace, because I know that love I share my story and I will continue to share no matter what. And my friend I hope you share your story too and know that grace is bigger. And may you always remember…

You matter and you are loved,
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I Am Not a Writer

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I never meant to be a blogger. I never sat down and thought I could write something that would resonate with others. I never thought of myself as a writer. I was always the reader. I love books like some people love the sunshine, I cannot get enough. I have always had a book under my arm, not a pen in my hand. I majored in English because I love literature not writing. I crave stories and the words in them.

All that time I never thought I was a writer. In fact, for nearly all of my education years I hated writing. I hated essays. I hated papers. Ask me to read a book and I would do it in a night. Ask me to write anything and I would sit on it for as long as possible. However, the older I’ve become the more I have recognized we all have a story, a story unique from anyone else’s and if we are brave enough to tell our story than others might share theirs too. And when we share our stories we might realize we have a friend who understands us and can help share in our burdens.

Recently I have struggled with the idea of myself as a blogger. It is no secret that I love social media. I can recognize that there are definite downsides to the use of social media. However, for many reasons I will always love it. I love the inspiration that can be found, the relationships that can be built, the companionship that can be shared and the storytelling that can be told. I have benefitted from each and every one of these aspects.

I follow some of the most creative bloggers, photographers, and activists on social media and while I love seeing their posts, on my bad days I cannot help but compare. Now my friends, I have learned that the comparison is the thief of joy. So when the lies tell me that I am simply MK, I don’t have a fancy company, I am too young, I am a nobody…the truth tells me that I am MK, there is no one like me, I have a story and I am the only one who can tell my story, and I was put on earth to tell my story so that it might point to the gospel…that is my truth.

So on the days I struggle with whether I am a true blogger or even more whether I am a true writer. I tell myself that YES I am! Because to me, a writer tells a story and that is exactly what I am doing, I am telling my story. I am a writer. I never imagined I could be or I would be but I am.

Pretty soon this special piece of web space is going to get a fabulous make over by my fabulous friend and designer KM (and yes our name is totally the same flip flopped. Hers is Kate Martha!! We were meant to be besties!!) So as that change takes place, it is important for me to remind myself and my readers why I write. I write simply to tell my story, in hopes that it may help one person realize that they are not alone and that freedom is REAL and it is the BEST! When we tell our story we allow the gospel to become real to people and that is my hope for this blog, that you would see the grace of the gospel in the midst of my mess. Whether you are a blogger or a writer, you are a storyteller because only you can tell your story, so tell it.

So if you are reading for the first time or for the millionth time…Welcome Friend! I know that you have a story to tell and one day I hope I get to hear it. And may you always remember…

You are loved and you are worth it,

MK

Asking for Help

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“There is nothing small or inconsequential about our stories. There is, in fact, nothing bigger. And when we tell the truth about our lives-the broken parts, the secret parts, the beautiful parts-then the gospel comes to life, an actual story about redemption…”

Dear Friend,

I want to tell you a story…

Wednesday nights were my favorite during the four years I was at TCU. Each Wednesday night I walked through the doors of the chapel and was greeted by a community of people who loved me exactly as I am—flawed, messy, and in desperate need of grace. The first time I went to RUF I was scared because I did not know a single person in the room. After I was greeted with warm smiles and gentle welcomes, I knew there was no reason to be scared. For the first time in college I felt at home. A peace washed over me like I had never felt before and I knew I had found the community I so longed to be a part of. That community was, and still is Reformed University Fellowship (RUF).

 

As a part of the ministry, I realized that RUF does not primarily live within the walls of the chapel nor is it confined to our large group meetings. The community of RUF is visible during late nights at Whataburger and while making Slurpee runs to Seven Eleven. You can see RUF’s community at early morning breakfasts, at birthday parties and Christmas parties, in the midst of break ups and heartaches, singing karaoke on a Saturday night, or in many other ways that we share life together. These people held my hand, dried my tears, calmed my fears, loved me when I felt unlovable, shown me grace upon grace, and the people who always pointed me back to the cross of Jesus Christ. They spoke truth when it was hard to hear and came to my rescue when they saw me in need. They have given me more love and grace than I could have ever imagined and they have demonstrated what it means to be in true community. And because of what this community did for me, I want to share the same gospel-love with others. I want them to know that it’s okay that they aren’t okay because Jesus is better than being better. I want them to know that Jesus loves immensely flawed individuals and that there is a community that reflects that love.

 

In my RUF community, we were able to serve each other with love and grace for the sole reason that Jesus has shown us a scandalous grace despite our adulterous hearts. We desired to share this amazing love with others as well as we could. We have spent time learning to live out this kindness in word and deed. When we hurt one another, we were reminded that God’s grace is greater than our faults. I believe in and serve a God who is bigger than us, bigger than our mistakes, bigger than our flaws, and bigger than RUF.

 

What about those of you who are reading this and aren’t a part of a similar community? What if you did not even know such a group of people existed? Well here is where you get to play a HUGE part in RUF. Come this fall, my (then) husband Brett and I will be moving to Waco, Texas where I will be the new RUF intern at Baylor University. Brett and I are beyond thrilled for this opportunity to serve college students. However, we need your help. Like many ministry jobs, I have to raise my own salary of $35,000 dollars. I am confidant that God has His hand in this and the money will be raised. You my friend have an opportunity to participate in the ministry of RUF and donate to my time at Baylor. You will help me be able to serve students at Baylor by giving a one-time gift or a reoccurring monthly gift.

Come August 20th if 85% or more of my salary is not raised, than I will be unable to serve at Baylor. So my friend, you were not chosen at random to receive this letter. You are receiving this letter because you too have been a part of my journey and walked through life with me. Would you please consider continuing along with me by taking this next step? 

We all need a community this side of heaven to help bear in our burdens and love us well. I promise you they are out there. My friend, there is hope and it starts with unimaginable grace from a God who loves and chooses you despite your brokenness, He picked you. Responding to God’s love happens in a community of people who are devoted to knowing Him and showing his grace to others. Look for those people and if you are interested in giving to my ministry at RUF, you can begin doing so today.

Please go online to www.givetoruf.org and enter “Martha Moseley” in the box under specific campus, church plant or field staff or you can mail a check to:

Reformed University Fellowship

P.O. Box 890004

Charlotte, NC 28289 0004

Friend, I would love to sit down over a meal or a cup of coffee to discuss any questions you may have as well as to thank you for your support.

Please feel free to contact me and know that you will hear from me soon. I could not do this without you!

With much love and gratitude,

Martha Kate

martha.moseley@ruf.org

 

Choosing Love

I think we would all being lying if we said we hated Valentines day. In reality, I think it’s hard it hate an idea that centers around us being cared for, cherished, adored and frankly loved. We all long for that. However, celebrating on one day with every other person in the world your love. That concerns me. Because what happens the other 364 days? What about the teenage girl who doesn’t have a boyfriend? The single mom? The orphaned son? On this day I don’t believe these people feel the love that everyone oozing about their VDay presents does. I hope though in spite of this day they they learn the love doesn’t happen once a year it’s an all year, every minute kind of thing. It’s not a feeling but it’s a choice…

I would be lying if I said that somewhere deep down inside I don’t long to be a princess. In fact, I used to think love was this fairy tale princess story that ended with a Happily Ever After and a ride off into the sunset with my Prince Charming. If you had asked me what love was two years ago that is exactly what I would have told you. It was Happily Ever After, tied with a beautiful bow around it. Now I know better. My friends, that is not love, because love is a choice, love is an action.

Before you stop reading because you think that I am about to mush and gush about my love story and favorite guy. Hold on…I am not. I am talking about love with your friends, with your community, with your parents, with your extended family, with your kids, with yourself. I no longer hold the belief that love is this mushy, gushy feeling. If that were true then love would last very briefly. In the last few years I feel like I have gotten a crash course in love and what it means to love others and have them love you back.
I once had a conversation with a friend who told me that loving someone should be easy, it shouldn’t take work, it shouldn’t be messy and we should just have that love feeling. I tried to explain that was the opposite of what I believed love to be, because, love was all of those things, messy, hard, complicated, work, and it was anything but a walk in the park. We are human, we mess up and we are in no way perfect so why should love with other people be anything but imperfect. I believe there is only one true perfect love, filled with grace and that is from a Savior much bigger than any of us. So when it comes to imperfect people love is difficult. We often give up easily because love requires grace. It requires looking at someone and seeing their imperfections and loving them all the same.
Every day we wake up and we have a choice to dig deep with people. We have a chance to roll up our sleeves and walk through the messiness of life hand in hand. We have a chance to forgive and keep forgiving. We have a chance to live out grace. We have a chance to not treat others in ways they have treated us. Sometimes it gets really messy, sometimes it requires us to do things we don’t want to do, awkward things. It may require kindness to a stranger, it may be asking to help with a task you absolutely cannot stand, it may be physically cleaning up a mess, it may be time consuming. Each time we dive in and show that kind of love we are giving people a chance to see that beautiful face of grace and love.

This week I got to spend time with one of my favorite friends who is beautiful inside out. She has mentored and loved me unconditionally. She has held me when I cried. She has talked me through the toughest times, shared her family and seen past my flaws. Most of the time I had nothing to offer her back but my mess and she still chose to roll up her sleeves, pick me up and help me out of my mess. She made a choice to love me when I was unlovable. That my friends is love, when we have nothing to offer and someone comes in sacrifices for us and scoops us up in their arms and makes a choice to love us.

Sometimes we forget to extend this same courtesy to ourselves. It is easiest for us to love others and not ourselves. My friends I want to remind you to extend that same grace and love to yourself, even when you are a mess and feel at your worst. You too need love, even from yourself. Real love is hard even for ourselves because it requires sacrifice. It may mean that we don’t get to watch a marathon of our favorite TV shows, maybe it means putting part of your paycheck into something less fun than a rainy day fund, sometimes it means telling the honest truth in grace and risking a relationship. That is where we often get caught up in a predicament, we are all about love, until it affects our bank accounts, our home, our time. I want to challenge you friend, true love requires this sacrifice. It means loving when the person isn’t deserving. It means loving when you want to quit. It means loving despite the fact that the other person can do nothing for you. It means loving the mess of a person laying in bed, who hasn’t showered, has bad breath and greasy hair. That is love.

This week I hope you think about the ways you can love others…truly love others, ways you can sacrifice and love people when it isn’t fun. It might seem hard and weird but just remember it is not a feeling you’re going off, it is a choice, it is an action. And as you begin to love others this week I have a feeling you will really begin to live and I pray you get that love and grace you are dishing out, served right back to you.
And may you ALWAYS REMEMBER…

YOU are LOVED and YOU are WORTH it,

<3MK

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Taking a Leap of Faith

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Tomorrow I am taking another huge leap of faith. Tomorrow I get to share this video with a group of high school students and talk to them about Eating Disorders and Recovery. I wanted to share it with all of you first so that you could be praying that it would help open a conversation, that recovery is possible and grace is so much better. My story is one of millions and it has never been about me but if sharing my story of grace helps one person find freedom and grace than it is worth sharing.

Thanks for watching!

Always remember…

You are loved and you are worth it,

<3MK