the love of her Father. It means encouraging prospective landlords in my house-hunting process with words of knowledge about their character and their destiny and leaving an atmosphere of restored hope. One of my life's mission statements is I desire that whoever encounters me will leave with a greater measure of hope. When I was little I ... would be found in the library. It's hard to believe nowadays that I used to be a painfully shy kid. I actually read books on how to befriend people. Hahaha. I know. So sad/funny/cute all at the same time. My mom put me in sports, art & music lessons to help me get out of my shell. I remember her telling me the reason why I was in voice lessons was because one of my grade school teachers overheard me singing accidentally and remarked that I had natural talent. It seems, growing up, that was the story of my life: painfully shy kid with apparently many natural talents. The only problem with that scenario is it taught me early on that my identity was wrapped up in what I did and how well I did it. It's taken many many years of brokenness and searching and counseling and healing to get to the place where 1) I actually love myself and 2) I'm sinking into deeper security that who I am is dependent on the fact that I am ridiculously loved and adored by the Father. So there ya have it --