"It's lonely in here, with no sound except the echoing of my own voice inside my head. Telling me to keep going, to rise above, to let it go. Making deals with God and pleading to know why. Why has this played out in such a way that leads me to this busy and bustling, yet incredibly lonely, road. It's so loud I want to scream, and there is no one around to calm me down.

"It's just you and me again I guess," I say to God, "the way it ends every time." 

"Exactly the way it is meant to be," he whispers back. "Keep reading, take it a page at a time. This book gets so good."  - Danica Rugg
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This is not my house.
These are not the works of my own hands.
I take no credit no praise no adoration no glory.
It is He who built this life. He who offers the protection and comfort that my soul so craves.
The hands that offer undying support.
I stand in awe at what I have struggled to finally accept.

That this is not my house, my life.
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