Sitting in my room cleaning thinking of all the memories I've had in here... It first belonged to my great grandmother then when she moved into a nursing home, we moved in after my parents separated. It was always my room from then on... On weekends after my mom remarried, as a kid and a teenager it was my room/ my grandfathers prayer room which explains the peace it holds. At 19 I moved in, I was a broken, angry, bitter teenager looking for stability and peace. No one knew I was suicidal or battling so many issues but my grandma let me stay, something tells me she knew. I wanted to know God but wanted to do my thing too lol! So I did, secretly did what I wanted, made sure I came to church on Sundays to keep up appearances but somebody was praying for me. At 22 I got saved and gave my life to Christ while laying on the floor in this room. Through the emotional battles, the ups and the downs this room has been a staple. This house has been my staple. Soon I'll be packing, moving to a new city but this will always be my room. Yeah it's messy sometimes LOL! I'm not very organized but I'm learning. I have such a connection with it because it is the only place where I ever found stability. I am a crybaby by nature so of course tears are hitting the ipad 😂. It will always be my safe haven.
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