It was easy to see that cigarettes would kill me until I was nic’n for a smoke.

And to have a candy bar until I was afraid of food and the sickening compulsion to make myself throw it up later.

It was so easy to talk about how people are overmedicated until it was me who had fallen in the pit of depression

and Prozac was keeping me from falling any deeper.

It was easy to say that my kids would never act like that when I didn’t have children.

And to plan on homeschooling them until I actually had them and was counting down the days until they

started school so that I could breathe again.

And to think that being a good wife meant that I had to be quiet and meek and submissive

until I got married and had things to say and things to do.

It was easy to quote bible verses until I wrestled with doubt and needed more than words to save me.

To think that I had it all figured out until I realized that I didn’t.

To judge others until it was me who was being judged.

And I have been judged.

And I am not who I thought I should be. I am not even close.

I have been addicted and nic’n and purging and prozac’ing. And those children that you hear screaming are mine.

The only thing that comes easy to me now is grace.

And for this, I thank God.

I would have never known grace without first truly needing it.