You must be willing to change. You must be willing to break the deal you made with the devils within. You must be willing to leave the past and not be tempted to rebound when times are tough.
You must be willing to let go of everything and anyone that takes you back to your sins. You must be willing to have hope. You must be willing to have hope that you can change and that you will and that you will be better.
You must believe you are worthy of change and you are worthy of improvement and you are worthy of being the best.
You must be willing to set aside your negative notions about life, about hardships, about people, about things, about yourself. You must be willing to stop feeling sorry for yourself while looking at the world move around you.
Get up and make something of yourself.— Jack Barakat (via the-healing-nest)
Sometimes I forget to listen. I forget to let a friend be. To tell their whole story and paint their full heart into the air.
I’m too eager to respond with a fix, a solution, a plan. I interrupt the art. I look for a pause to jump in and offer all sorts of articulate banter, when this isn’t what they want. They just want to speak until they’re out of breath, and then meet eyes and feel like they’re okay and understood and not alone. It’s a beautiful thing, and I want to let it happen. I want to let them finish painting in their own words. And then maybe I will understand.
They told me to pour my heart into everything I do. So that’s what I did, I poured and poured and poured. Now they ask me why I’m so empty.
What is family? They were the people who claimed you. In good, in bad, in parts or in whole, they were the ones who showed up, who stayed in there, regardless. It wasn’t just about blood relations or shared chromosomes, but something wider, bigger. We had many families over time. Our family of origin, the family we created, and the groups you moved through while all of this was happening: friends, lovers, sometimes even strangers. None of them perfect, and we couldn’t expect them to be. You can’t make any one person your world. The trick was to take what each could give you and build your world from it.
JFTHussin || johannjustwannabehappy.tumblr.com
“When my daughter was a toddler, I used to take her to a park not far from our apartment. One day as she was playing in a sandbox, an ice-cream salesman approached us. I purchased her a treat, and when I turned to give it to her, I saw her mouth was full of sand. Where I had intended to put a delicacy, she had put dirt.
Did I love her with dirt in her mouth? Absolutely. Was she any less of my daughter with dirt in her mouth? Of course not. Was I going to allow her to keep the dirt in her mouth? No way. I loved her right where she was, but I refused to leave her there. I carried her over to the water fountain and washed out her mouth. Why? Because I love her.
God does the same for us. He holds us over the fountain. “Spit out the dirt, honey,” our Father urges. “I’ve got something better for you.” And so he cleanses us of filth; immorality, dishonesty, prejudice, bitterness, greed. We don’t enjoy the cleansing; sometimes we even opt for the dirt over the ice cream. “I can eat dirt if I want to!” we pout and proclaim. Which is true—we can. But if we do, the loss is ours. God has a better offer.”
Max Lucado, “Just Like Jesus” (via soniajlee)
If you treat a man as he is, he will stay as he is. If you treat him as he ought to be, he will become the bigger and better man.
Perhaps, the problem is not the intensity of your love, but the quality of the people you are loving.
Live in such a way that if someone spoke badly of you, no one would believe it.