i’m struggling to smile. i’m struggling to stay in the same room. i struggling to hold your eyes in mine.
when childhood includes real pain, you avoid emotions.
at least, i did.
moving stress is squeezing and the hidden heart is being revealed.
surprise, surprise – it’s not pretty.
i thought i’d dealt with anger.
i thought i’d surrendered my everyday to raising children, that i had embraced the limited scope of life in this season.
i thought i’d made up my mind to love my husband well.
but right now, every smile, every kind word, feels dangerous.
when childhood includes abuse, you use words that cut to keep everyone at a safe distance.
at least, i did.
i’m fumbling around and grabbing old tools to do the work of today.
but harsh words and a hard face are speaking what i don’t mean to say – to my kids, to my husband, to my neighbors and friends.
i thought i’d changed.
i thought i’d made progress on the renovation of my heart.
the lie is to think that i haven’t changed at all.
the lie is to believe that there aren’t more changes to be made – the changes that come by following him down the new roads he is leading me to.
roads that lead back into my cavern heart, to the places undiscovered that i could not reach until now.
roads out to neighbors that ask more, with harder stories to hear and that reward with sweeter joy.
roads up that ascend the hill of the lord to find him teaching on the mountainside, to sit at his feet.
this is uncomfortable.
but there is comfort in remembering that i am not at square one.
thanks be to god who has brought me this far only to say there is farther yet to go. i have a hope and a future and from what i know of him, of jesus, it must be pretty good.