reality check, part II

Part I

Letting go of what used to be and moving forward. Letting go of what you've known for years. Years, I tell you, and finally letting God move you into what He really has for you. We are our own worst enemy. We hold onto this shit {excuse my French} that only makes us miserable. That only makes us have that terrible feeling in our gut and wish we hadn't looked back. We hold onto it like it's some kind of demented, masochistic safety blanket that we can't imagine life without. We can't imagine life without the hurt, without the grudge, without having this stuff that God is clearly trying to weed out in our lives. We are our own worst enemy. So we keep looking back, we keep refusing to forgive, we somehow lose sight of the amazing things we have in front of us, and we sit. 

We sit in our misery. We keep talking about it even though we can see the exacerbation in our friends eyes and can almost hear their thoughts of when is she going to let it go? And we're embarrassed, but too scared to do anything about it. Too afraid, because it's all we've ever known, it's all we can remember. And we don't know how to forgive. We've got the whole "I forgive you" rhetoric down, but an actual heart change? Not so much. We don't know how to function without a little piece of him {and maybe a small piece of her too} lodged in our heart, carrying them with us every-stinkin-day. Letting them take up space that, quite honestly, they've done nothing to earn. Space that other people in our lives would love to occupy, if we would let them. Space that God wants to take over for His own. It's not like they're here. It's not like we see them every day, or ever, for that matter. But they're still a part of us, because "the only thing that makes it a part of your life is that you keep thinking about it." And talking about it.

So what do we do? How do we do this thing we are certain we are incapable of? We don't, because we are incapable. We let God. We hit our knees in abandon and loss and we shoot straight with the God who already knows. 

I can't do this on my own anymore. I don't have all the answers like I've always thought I do. I am not the self-sufficient, all-knowing, ever-capable being I've spent the last few years convinced I am. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've ignored You and humanized You and made myself more than You. I'm sorry I've been prideful and pompous and have only hurt myself in the process. And I'm giving it up. You can have it. All of it. I don't even want it anymore. So take the pride and the pain and the running into really hard walls over and over, and make me Yours from the inside out. That's all I want. To be completely consumed by You. Help me let go the of the fear that keeps me living here, in this hell-hole of a grudge. Chains are broken, shame has fallen, all my sins are gone. Break these chains, Lord, because You're the only one that can. Please.

And one afternoon, you realize he hasn't even entered your mind in almost 4 days. Not even a fleeting thought. Neither has she. What? Well that's clearly all God, because wasn't I just saying I was incapable of this kind of freedom? And next thing you know you're face to face with the thing you've dreaded most, and you kind of want to say hi... You keep waiting for that rush of panic that's overtaken you many times before when you thought you saw someone you didn't, but it never comes. You surprise yourself. Your friends look at you confused because they keep expecting you to bolt, but you smile, and chat, because you've finally forgiven her. And him too. Him especially. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference.

And you're indifferent. You're free. The burdens you've been weighed down by for years, they're gone. The chains that have linked the two of you in this self-destructive, painful union, are now non-exsistant.  And not because you're such a strong, independent woman who's got it all together, but because you serve the Author of Time. And He knew this day was coming, even though you seriously doubted it. He knew that one day, you'd be able to hear his name and not cringe, be able to hear the words I genuinely wish them well come out of your mouth and not be appaulled by your amazing ability to lie, because it's finally the truth. And now, those places in your heart that have been occupied by people who didn't need to be there start to be filled by the Holy Spirit, and by people who love you.

And it's really, really good.