Our world is fallen. For the past five years I’ve lived with my mother who would constantly quiz me on how bad of a person my father was, yell at me for reasons beyond my knowledge, and constantly paint me as a terribly irreputable child who understood nothing and needed to learn respect. My days consisted of laying in bed, eating all meals alone in my room, trying to hold onto a semblance of a social life online, and my children’s theatre practice. While my physical restraints were slowly rising, I was trying to accomplish something that would assure me that I had some sort of intelligence and wasn’t a brain-dead beat knick who was worth anything. But in this world we encounter a God who is many things.

God is merciful. I remember many nights when I would scream to God, “Why is this happening to me?! Why not someone else?? Why me!!” I could feel him patiently listening and when he knew I had cried enough, I remember him lulling me to sleep for the night, which was a rare treat in itself, seeing as I was an insomniac.

God is love. There were five years of my life where the only social interaction I had was at a children’s theatre. It was there I learned that love is what makes life livable, no matter the circumstance. They all loved me as a family and accepted me, however I was. I loved each and every one of those kids, and it would show. A couple of times when I said, “I love you!” They would retort, “Brynn, who don’t you love?” and I wouldn’t have an answer for them. It was within this last year that I learned all love comes from God and the only reason I was able to love unconditionally was because it was a gift from God, and I used it well.

God is all knowing. I will never forget how the first meeting with my father in three years went. I had held an anger towards him since the divorce and wanted him to know that I was hurt, but no matter how angry I was towards my dad, he could always make me laugh within the first two words out of his mouth. I believe God knew how much I would need my dad despite the long and horrible separation from him, and he planned our personalities the way he did so that we could pick up right where we left off.

God is hope. I went to a residential hospital for my diabetes and dysautonomia a year and a half ago; within the year I moved in with my dad, I had gotten a GED, taken the ACT and scored a 27, started college classes, held a 4.0 all year, gotten and held a job for 7 months, earned a driver’s license, plugged in with a college age church group, found a family within the church, and kept a steady worship and meditation with God, all while keeping my blood sugars controlled. If that isn’t the merciful healing touch of God, then I don’t know what is.