It has come to my realization that God is doing some serious cleaning of my rhetorical closet these days. It is good. It is healthy. And like all things that are good and healthy for growth, it is also painful. You prune the bush to allow it to grow more, right?
Recently, I've been playing an ugly game of wack-a-mole with experiences and hurts in my past. One by one, they are being drudged to the surface and one by one, I'm having to recognize, analyze, and legitimize (which has, coincidentally or not, lead to a lot of exercise too. ---hey! it's a near rhyme. I was close.)
So this involves seeing that these things in the closet exist, analyzing the effect and causes of them and then dealing with them in the present and all of the things that it has affected. This has lead to a lot of freedom with some things but a lot more of a nauseated feeling within my stomach.
A lot of it, being the girl that I am, has to do with histories with guys. Friends...past boyfriends...past almost-boyfriends... You name it: If he could grow a five o'clock shadow, I'm dealing with it now.
I am realizing that forgiveness is something that I have to chose to do on a regular basis until it becomes a lifestyle. But that lifestyle looks differently for every situation, so right now, it's just way too much thinking and I am a bit overwhelmed with it. I have one good success story, so there is actually a standard to set the others against.
I am learning the significance of that ever-present but ever-foreign concept of "guarding your heart." What the crap does this even mean, right? Well. I now have an answer for you. Without even realizing it at points, I was able to give away little chunks of my heart here and there...Without even a knowledge that I was doing it or an ability to stop it. I was told to guard my heart, but not ever given specific avenues on how to do that. And because of this, I am now having to pick up the pieces of a badly beaten heart. Now I have to present those pieces to the One who created my heart in the first place, like a little girl who has just broken her mom's precious vase, so that it can be pieced back together.
And the more daunting aspect that I am now faced with is this question:
Am I willing to rest in the pains of my past benefiting another woman?
Ouch, right? There is no black and white with this one. It's another grey area. On one side, there is the beauty that he is a better man because of what he learned in the painful circumstances with you. On the other side, your heart got broken.
And yet, in that question, I find that I feel incredibly close to Jesus. The pain of my heart benefits someone who might not even have a knowledge that it happened or that this is why things are the way they are. It is simply an innate circumstance to them.
There is freedom in that for me.
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