I sat there in church feeling like a failure at life.

See, here's the deal: My life is going great, remarkably. I'm happier than I have ever been before, and not just happy, but joyful.

Yet there are times I feel like I don't have the right to be anything but.

This week has been one of those times. I was exhausted mentally for no apparent reason. I mean, good heavens, it was Spring Break! I didn't have any right to be exhausted. Yet there it was, Easter Sunday, and I was sitting in a pew, staring up at the cross and feeling as though I'd failed at Spring Break, too.

See, I'd been stressed out. Super stressed out - about homework, of all things! Spring Break is supposed to be the time you're chilling and can do homework at your own pace, right? And the stuff I was stressing about only took forty-five minutes. But because of my stress, I'd been cranky most of the week. I'm usually the person who is irritated when people get so wrapped up in their work they put other people on the backburner, but this past week it was like everyone wanted a piece of my time and I had no time to give them.

Being a people pleaser, this was a bit of a difficult thing for me to grasp.

It's not supposed to be like this anymore, I thought. I'm in a wonderful time in my life. I've got wonderful friends, my family is awesome, I'm at the school of my dreams with a legit career plan for the first time in forever, and life is moving forward. And, most importantly, my relationship with the Lord is deeper than it's ever been! Granted, my blood sugar could be better, but I'm going on the pump in a few months!

What is wrong with me? I've been through this phase of my life where everything sucks and I can't get out of the funk. I'm supposed to be joyful - all the time. Everyone's going to think I've gone off the deep end again.

It was Easter Sunday, and I couldn't bring myself to be joyful.

Then we started singing and I felt God's love wrap around me like never before.

I've always known God loved me, but this weekend was the first time I truly, actively believed it in my heart, not just my head. I looked at him, what he'd done for me. I realized just what I was a part of by claiming Jesus as Lord. It wasn't the first time I'd realized it, but the first time it truly sunk in.

The past week was still there, but this time I realized that God loved me anyway, for who I'd been and who I was right then, not just who I was trying to become. All along I'd been trying to work towards someone that I felt was clean and tidy enough for Jesus, when he'd died for the girl who'd snapped at her family.

The girl who'd panicked about an assignment.

The girl who's been reading the wrong syllabus for the past month!

He loves me, bruises, scars, and dirty parts. All of it.

Same goes for you, my friend.