Open wounds still hurt.
I have wondered why some things still keep me up at night in a frustrated trance. Perhaps it’s because the wound(s) never really healed. In fact, that makes a lot of sense.
Yet, how can I heal when the wound is being hit again and again and again? Band aids get ripped off in my sleep. In other instances, my poor choices start the bleeding all over again. I’m at fault as much as anyone. In fact, perhaps I’m the most at fault – if not the only one.
I am in charge of me, my emotions and my actions. Nothing comes from my mouth that I didn’t really want to say somewhere deep down in my sinful nature.
I still feel the twinge from lost and hurt relationships. While I know that God can heal what is broken, it feels that, in the world I live in, what is broken will stay broken. I alone can only do so much.
I believe in a church family. There have been times when that family cut me down, once again preventing a wound to heal. I lost faith in people. I doubted goodness that might come from church. I felt eyes on me everywhere. Watching. Waiting for an excuse to call me out on the mistakes I was bound to make.
Do you know what that’s like? To live in fear of who you thought was closest to you? It’s a constant battle. Do I smile or appear stoic? Do I sit here or there? Should I speak or save it for the comfort of my own home? Should I break down in front of everyone or continue to shove the torment deep inside to appear put together? Hopefully, if done right, the eyes will stop watching… One day…
Fear. Rejection. I know the meaning of these words all to well. They are the open wounds that continue to bleed.
Yet somehow, my faith prevails today. My faith in the goodness of people is being renewed. This wasn’t my idea. I didn’t try to accept the goodness of others. In fact, I was ready to deny it.
It’s just that God has His Perfect Timing. Last year, when we moved into the woods, I wasn’t ready to be openly vulnerable again. I don’t know why God isolated me. But He new better than I or Mr. Sexy. What we needed was time and space to grow in our marriage and in our family. Our marriage still isn’t everything it can be although it has deepened tremendously. Our family is still in pieces.
But we’re trying. We’re working. We’re moving forward.
It makes no sense that I should once again open myself up to people in church and show them the scum that I see inside myself. But I am doing it. It’s wonderfully painful.
Eyes will continue to watch – even if it’s just from a distance. I will not make good choices all the time. In fact, I made some not so great ones already this morning.
But for some reason, I’m able to once again try to move forward.
I want the wounds to heal. I want my marriage to be all that it can be. I want my family to be whole.