Day 81

Tensions were high.

We were stressed, overwhelmed, and tired.

We snapped.

Well, I snapped first.  Then both of our attitudes went downhill.  Hurt people hurt people, and after everything we were going through, the last thing we needed was a fight.  The last thing we needed was to lose each other.  The last thing I needed was to hurt a friend.

And so I apologized.  I told her what hurt me.  And I asked her what hurt her.  Genuinely.

Friendship isn't based on the people you see the most.  Or the people that agree with you all the time.  Or how much you have in common.  Friendship is based on those who stick beside you when you're ugly.  When you're mean.  And when you're tired.  When you deserve a friend the least.  And true friendship gives grace.  She gave me grace today, and that is an act of love.

It was around noon that I left for lunch, the first one out.  (By the way, don't text and drive.  Not only is it illegal, it's illegible.)  And I asked her…

1:07 PM                u wantanythunv’?

1:07 PM                No thanks. I appreciate the offer

1:10 PM                You have a quality that will help your marriage last. Your willingness to fix situations will take you a long way.  Any man who gets the honor of marrying

1:10 PM                you will be so blessed.  You are a great person.

1:10 PM                Scratch great, wonderful

1:16 PM                That means a lot coming from you because I think the same of you. You are important to me and I love you.

1:25 PM                I love you more sister

She didn’t have to say any of that to me.  And yet, she did.  Upon grace, she gave me even more love.

Last night while listening to an Andy Stanley sermon, he said this:

"I'm not trying to be right...I'm trying to reconcile!"

How much better our relationships would be if we lowered our pride and let our concern for others rise.  How much better it would be if we let go of being right and set our hearts on being reconciled.  As difficult as it is to push that part of us down, reconciliation is worth it, because it gives us something our pride will never be able to…love.

Day 10

God has been taking these few weeks to press forgiveness into my heart.

Yesterday, Bryan tweeted this:

Hashtag, conviction.

Last Sunday made it the second week that I did not take communion with the church.  As the music began, and I saw people rise to be with Christ, a sad ache loomed in my heart.  Separated from God.  I looked up at the ceiling.  What?  The answer followed.  Sin separates you from God.  Feel ya, Holy Spirit.  I nodded, understanding, and let myself ache.  I understand I desperately need to forgive those who have hurt me.

Years ago when I used to write on MySpace, I would journal about dates, never using their real name.  In keeping this journal I considered doing the same to maintain some privacy.  And so today I listed the names of men who have left my heart hurting—six men I have yet to forgive.  These are the men who, if I saw them at this moment, my soul would be very anti-1 Corinthians 13:4-7.

So I took my list of unforgiven men, and I gave them all nicknames.  Still unsatisfied, I wrestled with different ideas to code them.  And it came to me.  I took one verb to describe from where my pain with each man was born.

Using.

Immobilizing.

Flodging.

Vowing.

Breaking.

Ignoring.

To each, I wrote my personalized vehement judgment:

Using: You used me for your ego.

Immobilizing: You made me feel worthless.

Flodging: You lied about who you were.

Vowed: You wore a ring.

Breaking: You came to me broken.

Ignoring: You didn’t care about who I was.

I thought evilly to myself with satisfaction.  Yeah, y’all hurt me, you jerks.  I hope you know how you did me wrong.  I hope one day God wracks your hearts with guilt over the pain you’ve caused me.  I deserve an apology.  I deserve you to recognize my pain!

Attractive, right?  Ugh.  God must’ve been listening, of course, probably shaking His head with a gentle laugh.  What was supposed to be me justifying my hurt quickly hit me in the chest like a sledgehammer.

Using: You used me for your ego, but I used you to validate myself.

Immobilizing: You made me feel worthless, but I made you feel like less of a man.

Flodging: You lied about who you were, but I made excuses about who we were together.

Vowed: You wore a ring, but I wore desperation.

Breaking: You came to me broken, but so was I.

Ignoring: You didn’t care about who I was, but I didn’t care about you enough to say no.

Admitting I was wrong is not easy.  My pride urges me to refuse responsibility.  It’s much easier to place the blame on him or him or him, or him.  As much as my brothers—yeah, catch that?  Brothers!—wronged me, I equally wronged them.  I.  Wronged.  Them.  A sin is a sin is a sin, right?  Ouch.  Hurts to see myself in that light.

But that’s what God does.  He brings our sin out into the light so that we may not remain in darkness.  To unforgive is to unlove, which, I hear, is the antithesis of our great God.  Forgiveness is no easy feat, but I’m praying every day for God to use my heart, to immobilize my sin, to extol lies, for me to stay true to my vow to Him, to give grace for brokenness, and to care enough about others to share my sins.

Let me love and forgive those who have hurt me.  You have forgiven me, and I am a stained sinner.  Your love has washed over me.  Let me love them like you love me, even when it hurts.  Especially if it hurts.  Let me focus on the depth in Luke 6:32-36.  Let me be merciful, because I have a Father who has given so much mercy to me.  And let me outdo them in love and honor.

Day 9

I’ll be honest.  I really don’t want to write tonight.  I would rather be in bed, under millions of blankets, hiding from the world.  But I’m not.  I can’t, I can't do that anymore.  And so here I sit, frustrated, half-thinking, half-staring-blankly at a blank screen, at a loss for words.

Last night was a difficult night, and today was a terrible day.  And I knew I would eventually hit this wall, which is why I made myself promise no matter how terrible things could get, I would write.  For better or worse, here I am.

“Darkness” I would assume is different for different people.  My own personal Hell is a labyrinth of lies telling me I’m alone, unworthy of love, and disgusting.  Satan looked at the playlists today, and decided to put these same thoughts on REPEAT all morning.  Thanks, DJ.  Good lookin’ out.  Jerk.

I sat in my car during my lunch break, praying for relief.  I had a journal in my lap, and sat quietly as if I were waiting for something miraculous to happen.  I watched golden leaves from the surrounding trees float through the sky.  And as silence cradled me, I began to cry.  The turntables spun, and I wrote:

I don’t want to do anything.  I don’t want to talk to anyone.  I want to slink away and hide.

This morning I barely had the strength to get out of bed.

The six-o-clock-in-the-morning darkness held me.

I couldn’t feel the truth in His love, but I heard the fears of my soul.

I may never be loved.  I may never be married.  I may never have children.  Who would want a whore?  Who could love me?  I am filthy and stained, undeserving of love.

I want to curl up, and un-exist.  I want to give up.  I don’t want to fight it anymore.

Tell me I’m not defined by this.  Tell me I’m Yours.  Tell me I’m safe in Your hands.  Tell me…I’m loved.  I’m special.  I’m worthwhile because I’m Your daughter.  Tell me it’s okay.

I paused.  My head slumped on the steering wheel.  I prayed none of my coworkers were watching the sad lump in the red Pontiac.  I tried to compose myself, and after a moment, I sat up, gathering my notebook.  Through tears, this is what was written next:

I redeemed you.  I died for you.  I knew what was to come in your life, and I died for it.  I redeemed every sin you could ever commit because I love you.  I love you.  You are so precious.  Remember the first verse Tabitha gave you, Isaiah 43:4.  You are mine.  If I didn’t love you I would’ve let you remain in filth.  But you are dressed in robes…clean, white, pure robes, because you are cleansed by my blood.  I died to save you.  I died to keep you.  I died so that you may live.  You are my precious child.  How could I let anything harm you?  Why would I let anything pass through my fingers that would hurt you?  I saved you.  You do not live in darkness anymore.  You are light.  Don’t listen to him.  Just as I know you, he knows you.  Just as I know your pain, he does, too.  He will stop at nothing to keep you from Me.  And I will stop at nothing to keep you.  And keep you I will.  I know your sorrow.  I also know your will.  You may or may not have a husband, I can’t tell you now.  But stop searching.  I stopped you.  I hurt you to prevent a greater eternal hurt.  Love Me now as a husband, for whether you have an earthly husband or not, you are My bride, my beautiful, redeemed love.  Cast your fears upon me.  How can I not protect you?  Have I not taken you over mountains and through valleys?  I am yours, you are Mine, and that is enough…forgive yourself…for I forgave you long before I made you, and I made you knowing you would fall.  All that you could ever want is yours—heart of mother though childless, beautiful though stained, and you are a wife already.  Come to Me, and rest.  Don’t run.  Fight for Me as I died for you.  I am love, and you are Mine.  Do I not cause the wind to blow and the leaves to change?  And just so, do you not think this is just a season of yours?  Though fall and winter come, there is a spring and a summer love.  If the trees gave up every winter, what would become of it?  Weather the winter, for I am with you.

Loving God isn’t easy.  But I tell you this as your loving sister, if it were easy, it would be worthless.