God let me wade through so much yesterday. And then today He led me through more tunnels
of my aching heart.
Slowly, I walked down a path of memories. I thought I wanted an apology and that in
itself would bandage the hurt from that chapter of my life.
Even though God was being tender with me, in frustration,
I declared, “No man has ever apologized to me, God! It’s not fair!”
Go ahead. Scream, cry, like a
child desperate for a toy. But I tell
you, it will matter to you not in moments when the next wrongdoing occurs and
your focus is upon that new pain. Just
as a child moving on from one instance to another, so the same will be for your
heart. Let your purpose be higher than
an apology.
And He brought to the forefront of my mind two memories
that made me realize my declaration had been made in haste. What I was telling myself was a lie.
I have received
apologies before—from not just one man, but two. Two relationships after him left me wounded and
confused. The difference being that these
two men took time and returned with an apology—meaningful, sincere
apologies. We left each other on good
terms, and I was satisfied. I thought I
was over it and could let go.
So you can imagine it hit me like a ton of bricks when I
saw these men out for the first time. I
expected to feel free and happy—high five them even! But instead I bore the same painful anxiousness. There remained a grating sense of recognition,
it seems, and my heart recalled who they were and who they were no longer. Mine.
At one time, but not now, and never again, but still having a piece of my
heart that was meant only for God and one other person. As much as I don’t wish for this feeling, I
still have it. Long after the apologies,
because some things are permanent. Not
in a way that they’re unforgivable, but that they will always be sensitive.
Which leaves me wondering if apologies from two genuine
men do not calm my spirits post-relationship, then why I do continue to believe
his would?
On the way home from dinner tonight, I started my car and
immediately K-Love played a song by MercyMe:
How appropriate. I
feel like the last lyric traveled through all my memories and deep into my
shoulders until it bathed my heart.
Healing is not going to come from him. At least that much I understand
now. I don’t exactly know how to get out
of this place just yet, and I feel like I’m not supposed to know. I feel like God wants me here for right now to
figure out something…I just don’t know what.
And while that’s a little frustrating, at least I’ve crossed getting
an apology off the How to Cure an Aching Heart list.
And maybe I’ll come to find it was a trick question all
along, the answer hovering all around me.
As the song tonight ended, these were the last lyrics I heard:
So here I am
What’s left of me
Where glory meets my suffering
I’m alive
Even though a part of me has died
You take my heart and breathe it back to
life
I’ve fallen into Your arms open wide
When the hurt and the healer collide
Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery
trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were
happening to you. But rejoice insofar as
you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his
glory is revealed (1 Peter 4:12-14).
