Hard Things

The pulse beats hard and I am challenged to “get it all down before it goes away.”  I cringe.  I have created blogs for my thoughts and yet there are some I don’t want to even think about much less share.   But I sense the great need to record it.   Maybe just for myself to sort it out.  Maybe to remember His goodness through it – like the memorial stones of Israel.  Maybe for sharing – maybe.  I’m still not completely sold on that one yet.  But I share anyway.  Hoping it will help someone somewhere.

So, I pray and ask for prayer.  About things that are easier to talk about.  Oh, it’s private stuff – not something I can share with EVERYONE but I can share it with women – those closest to me – those qualified – those who I think really care.  The pain, the discomfort, the infections, the persistent health issues.  But what I don’t ask for prayer about are the harder things.

The memories that He is revealing are connected to ones I know.  Spans of decades and they are connected.  The connections between what happened 40 years ago and what happened 10 years ago and what’s happening now.  Bizarre and twisted things.  Real things but unspeakable things.  But I am left with their consequences.  I am left with their results and those things are still real.  They must be absorbed, dealt with and put into the hands of God in HOPE of His full restoration.

Honestly, I don’t want to remember but at least I’m at a place now that I can remember and not be undone.  Where I can remember and not fall apart.  Where I can remember and KNOW that He is holding me, healing me, helping me grieve.  That is the work that has been going on now for 12 years.  Getting me to that place.  Revealing “lessor” unspeakable things and working through those to help me establish a firm trust in Him that He will get me through it.  That He will be there with me.  That I won’t perish from it or in it.  Those are big miracles, though they may not seem like it.

“Why couldn’t you just have dealt with it all at once?”  I don’t know.  I wasn’t strong enough?  I didn’t have enough faith? Enough trust?  Probably that and more.  I know now that the strands of providence don’t just start and end with me.  There are so many connections that involve other lives, other hearts and other souls that may not be ready or able to deal with the consequences of lifting the veil just now.  And so, God weaves the revelations through all these factors and those we still have no understanding of.

“Didn’t you remember all this?  It isn’t really new news is it?”  Well, yes…and no.  Because one day turns into 2 and 2 into 365 and 365 into 1095 and 1095 into 3285 and who can keep it all sorted out?  Only God.   And then there are things so atrocious that to keep them in our most aware consciousness is as suicide.  They must be filed in a place that keeps us from perishing from it.   But there comes a time when it must be exposed.  For containers, even in the mind, are only so strong and resilient.  Even containers ordered by God eventually must be relieved.    And so it begs to come out and God leads us to accept that.  When we accept it, He leads us through it – ever so gently and carefully.  When we deny it, it still must be relieved and it comes out in all manner of craziness.  Our humanness can’t handle what the heart of God can.

The year 2000 was about accepting it.  I did so and God led me through so much in those following few years.  Things unspeakable.  Things hard to deal with.  Things that left me feeling more ostracized and as if I was an embarrassment to others.  Things I had to deal with.  And I did.  2012 and following are years of deeper knowledge and understanding.  And it hurts just the same; the same but different.  It’s hard and harder.  It’s deeper and while I still don’t really want to know, I know I need to know.

There is such a need to speak about it, which is annoying to me.  It’s a relief to say it and know someone heard you without judgment.  To say “this is who I am and what has happened to me” and still be accepted.  But it’s so hard to actually do it.  In the years before I felt like everyone should know what happens so they will be aware, know how to pray and because I was learning I needed support.  I assumed every Christian qualified for that position since we are all the body of Christ.  I quickly learned that is NOT the case.  Every Christian is at a different place in their journey and maturity and some can handle harder stuff and others can’t.  Even when breaking that down, some who can handle it choose not to and it’s not always easy to figure that out until you misstep.  I still feel like I have occasionally chosen the wrong person to disclose things to and the embarrassment and even shame that brings is frustrating.  Why bother sharing?  I find my old fears rising up and I have to remind myself to not listen.  About that time, He always sends someone to say, “I got your message and I’m praying.  Please keep me posted. I care.”  And I breathe again for a while.  But I promise myself I will be more careful next time.

I am on this journey still.  I know I’m not alone.  Even if another human being never heard me, God does.  Jesus paid for all this already.  The Holy Spirit is with me always.  I know this now.  I wasn’t too sure before but I know it now.  Even still, it helps to know another human being hears and cares too.  Not sure why that is.  I often would like to eradicate that part of me but I can’t and I don’t think I’m supposed to.  It’s a weird mix of God and people and the people part still mystifies me.  I hope I get over that someday but for now, it just is.

And one day turns in to 2 and 2 into 148…and we move on, God and I, in my restoration story.

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