i was rereading this book today on the way to and from the mountains...and i just love everything in this book. it's so amazing. it's like a memoir of this girl's life and her words are pure poetry. and when they're not...they still hold that poetic nature about them...anyways, here's a few of the quotes i wrote down...(((or alot..i can't help it..i'm a quote fanatic!)))

"i don't even know what home means, except that i long for it. i long to heal, to have this yearning chasm inside of me filled, to believe in something bigger than me, holier than i dare to imagine, more gracious and full of kindness than i dare to wish for."

"i understand the desperation of wanting God and not being able to find him. i share that desperation still."

"if i dare to embrace my sorrow, if i dare to acknowledge my broken faith, will i find that i am holding nothing? that the faith i seek comes only to those who are put-together, pretending, and whole? if i reach into these dark corners of my soul searching for treasure, for purpose, will my hands come up empty?"

"how can i begin to find a connection with my worth in the eyes of God when i am drowning in what i was told about who i am, what i am, when i see myself through my own eyes as incapable of being loved?"

"oh god that is bigger than me.
oh god that is bigger than
daily devotionals,
perfect answers
and unholy pretending.

i believe.
i want to believe.
be present in the depths of my unbelief."

"in desperation i raced toward things that pretended to ease the loneliness, the aching yearning broken emptiness i could never explain."

"the cathartic release that followed "inner healing" or deliverance session gave me a sense of wholeness, a connection to some kind of temporary superpower, a conviction of resolution."

"but when the pain, struggle, and doubt returned, it swept me under its power, and i found myself overwhelmed, feeling helpless, unloved, unvalued, and unsaved."

"my grip was empty. my belief was shallow. my pain was buried beneath a facade that only looked good on the outside."

"when the hollow emptiness of my spirituality crashed into me, when i was alone with my lingering discontent, i was disillusioned with what i thought was my faith. it had no lasting solutions, nothing that wasn't based on pretenses. it had no real depth."

"my blackness, my dirty, disgusting filth"

"i wished for an escape--for my own end, for my own nothingness, for some kind of redemption at the conclusion of it all."

"furtive scribbling of cryptic sins on torn shreds of notebook paper"

"how can i reconcile the pain and sadness of the past to this present moment, to this overwhelming feeling, this certainty: i am not good enough. i am never good enough."

~stumbling toward faith
by: renee altson

i long to be able to write like that. to pose insightful questions like that covered in words like this...but when i can't...i just write the words of others..and dwell on that...