Showing posts with label so over it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label so over it. Show all posts

Monday, March 19, 2012

Day 135


I thought I saw him last week.

And like any time I think I see him, I run, frantic to escape.

Escape what?

An awkward un-apology.

It’s been a year and half and every time I see him, or see pictures of them, or see people from my old church, I cringe.  It’s like the wound is ripped open all over again.  And I hate it.

All I really want is an apology.  I want someone to say I’m sorry for what happened.  I want him to say he’s sorry for how wrong he was.  I want someone else to say she was sorry for how wrong she was.  I want the group to say I’m sorry that happened and that we didn’t support you better in your time of need.  I want to know that some part of them recognizes the deep hurt they’ve caused.

But it’ll never come.  And so I run until another spontaneous picture pops up and I’m forced back through all that searing pain all over again.

He’ll never apologize.  Because in his mind he did nothing wrong. 

And I sit here and I think:

1.       It’s not fair that he was able to move on.  He’s not sitting around thinking about me or what he had or what happened between us and how he wishes it could have been different—not that we’d be together, but at least that it wouldn’t have gone up in flames.
2.       I deserve an apology.  I deserve an apology for him not treating me as Christ treated the church.  He needs to apologize for putting his selfish needs above…just treating me like a human being, with compassion.  Yes, I deserve an apology.

And I thought of these things today, mulled them over while at my desk at work, wrestled through them at lunch, and examined them while I sat on my patio.

What it boils down to is pride.  I deserve…  I deserve…  I deserve…

It’s not enough for me that God pulled me out of a situation, a place, a relationship that stunted my growth and love for Him.  No.  In fact, I’m angry at God for doing it that way.  I want to yell and scream at Him and tell Him, “God, I at least deserve an apology from the bozo you had me with for 2 years that took a hammer to my heart!  God, I at least deserve my pain to be recognized!  They’re sitting there, smiling, enjoying life, ignoring what they did, and here I am wrestling with the same pain two years later!  How is that fair?  How little do you care about me that You should give me less than those who love You less and have been less dedicated than I have?!”

When I say all these things out loud, it hurts.  I know it hurts God that I’m being so selfish.  The life I have now is so much better than what it was.  I have everything.  Before I had nothing, and I’m complaining like the everything I have now is nothing compared to the nothing I had.  I’m sure it hurts His heart.

Why, at this point, does it matter if I’m recognized as the victim or not?  The only thing that would heal from that is my pride.  And it’s not like that would help me in any way.

On the balcony of my apartment tonight, I rocked in the breeze, considering all things.

And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23)

Judas betrayed Jesus.  Peter kept quiet.  None of these hurts kept Jesus from following God.  Jesus didn’t say, “God, this is so unfair!  I demand an apology from them before I do my work for you!”

No, that’s not how it happened.  He fulfilled God’s work anyway. 

And I can’t look at God and say, “These people deserve their just-desserts and I’m going to wait for you to fulfill that before I can fully focus my heart on what You’ve called me to do.”

They hurt me.  Okay.  They’re not apologizing.  Okay.  They’ve moved on.  Yup.  So have you, Jamie!

What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ (Phillippians 3:8).

In that loss I gained Christ.  How is an apology more precious than that?  It isn’t.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything (James 1:2-4).

Help me get through this, God.  Let me rely on You.  A friend told me last night to look at this like an infection God is clearing out.  And I want this infection gone, God!  I do!  Get every last piece of it out!  The sooner it’s gone, the sooner I can do more, learn more, be more, love more.  And so I’ll count it as joy that I’m dealing with this hurt…taking up my cross, following Jesus, and perservering.

No apology.  No pride.  But perseverance.

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him James (1:12).

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (Romans 5:3-5).

Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually (1 Chronicles 16:11)!

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:2).

And you will be hated by all for my name's sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved (Mark 13:13).