It's not me.

If the reaction that I had to the song I posted yesterday was considered a pat on the cheek, today was like I had a wrestler pick me up, spin me around, and body slam me into the ground.

Today, I was standing in my History professor, Dr. Stanke's office talking with her.  We know each other well because I've had her three times now, so we were talking about some medical issues she's been having and she was asking me how I've been doing with these migraines, and other stuff, when she said something that still shocks me.

Mallory, the way you deal with stuff, it amazes me. You're inspirational.

I have never been so humbled in my entire life.

I also kind of feel like I've failed because the way she said that, and the things she said after that made me realize that she was giving me the credit.  And if there's anything that I've realized over the past 3 years, it's that I really have nothing to do with it.

It's not me. 

I'm not strong in the least.

I'm not special, or superior, or given a gift that means I can handle medical issues better than any other person.

When I was laying in that hospital bed after being told my shunt had a staph infection, and I had to make the decision of whether or not I was going to drop out of Campbell for the semester, I was broken.  I was screaming at God in my mind wondering why He was doing this to me.  I cried for probably the first 24 hours of that stay.  Straight.

When I was in the hospital barely breathing from the staph pneumonia, I was begging God to either stop the problems or just kill me because I couldn't handle it anymore.  If that's not weak, I don't know what is.

I did what I did because I had to.  I didn't have any other choice.  It was as if I was a guest at a party called My Life.

God is the only reason I came out of the past two years with my sanity still intact.  He used me and broke me so that it could be crystal clear just how obvious it is that I couldn't do it on my own.

The only inspirational thing about my story is the fact that God has used me to help others appreciate their lives more.  Me, some shy, lonely little girl in the middle of North Carolina.  He used me to help other people face life with a more positive view.  And I'll be honest, the first time I had a friend tell me that she appreciated her life and "how easy she had it", I was just as blown away as I am right now.  Like, really...he used me?  He picked me?

This is Him.

Every positive thing that has come out of my life and my story is Him.

It's not been my doing.  It never has been.  And it never will be.

I know that now. 

Apparently, though, I need to do a better job at making sure other people know that.