Life has a way of running you over. When it happened to me I felt like roadkill, walking around with a tattoo of tire tracks on my forehead. My husband, who was going to be a pastor, had become an atheist and my baby brother committed suicide. My faith shattered into a million pieces and I abandoned all but my most basic belief that there is a God. Yet in this place, I discovered that God still loved me, even when I was a mess. This is a little bit of my story. The story of my faith, shattered but in the process of becoming whole again. This is the story of dreams - the ones that had died but are slowly being reborn. This is my story of learning to reject the lies of shame and choose love over fear. Our circumstances may be different but I believe that God is always the same. I need to be reminded that He has always been faithful to me, maybe you do too. I hope that my story encourages you along your journey and speaks hope to your heart.