Forgiveness is a Choice

Uninvited

Isn’t it amazing how one picture you happen to see on Facebook can cause stabbing pain in heart scars from the past? Wounds I thought had healed are ripped open again. Unforgiveness starts to creep in, and within a single breath I’m reliving the past and wondering why it feels like everything that caused intense grief happened just yesterday.

The past is not my present but somehow it has crept in, uninvited.

Forgiveness is a choice. I’ve moved forward. Forgiven. Forgotten…until now.

Spiraling

Now I’m spiraling.

Wondering why I’m feeling heartache in spaces that I believed were healed, or at least numb to further pain.

In rolls the judgment.

Whether it’s mine or theirs I cannot tell.

The assumptions are endless.

I’m now waaaay in the past and no longer within reason.

Digging up old wounds and tearing away scabs which inevitably cause further pain.

There is no pain like a mother has for her child.

There is no remorse like that of a mother.

Feeling helpless as people wound your child again and again leads to a place of desperation. A place where I’m looking for drastic change.

Everything I thought I once knew no longer matters. I’m unraveling. I want to escape.

I make plans to change everything. Quitting things. Starting new chapters. Then I halt. Full stop.

I’m in no shape to make any kind of big decisions. I am an emotional stink bomb about to explode on whoever is in my path. So I hide. I hide to process. I hide to protect. I protect my loved ones from myself so that I don’t cause further wounds with my emotions of pain and sadness that have overtaken me. The worst part about being in deep distress is that I often cause pain to someone else—hurt people hurt people. I want to send that hurtful text, end that friendship, mouth off, and speak harsh truths with no essence of love.

So I do the opposite.

I remember forgiveness is a choice.

I forgive again.

I choose to walk towards light.

I refuse to “do what I feel.”

I send a text of encouragement to a friend the Lord lays on my heart.

I look to serve.

I reach out emotionally to those I can trust, even though inwardly all I want to do is hide in my sorrow.

I blind myself.

All I want to do is scroll and scroll. Scroll through my mind, and scroll through my phone and relive the pain of the past that is now in my present once again.

I blind myself.

I refuse to let my eyes see any more triggers.

I refuse to go there.

I’m fully relying on self-control, self-discipline, and fighting against my desires of what I know I should and shouldn’t do.

I work on my heavenly assignment.

I teach and train my children.

I fail.

I make amends and start again.

Resurface

My emotional presence brings a sense of stress and tenseness to our home, which comes out through my loved ones in varying degrees.

I am proof that if mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

We make amends again.

I keep resurfacing and breathing deep and pushing all the heartache out—not away, not down to hide, but OUT. I acknowledge my feelings, but refuse to let them overtake me again.

Waffles

I resurface again.

Breathe.

Then we make waffles.

Yes, waffles.

The homemade sourdough ones from scratch because they fill our bodies and our soul! I contend that waffles are soul food. I’ll fight you on this.

Mom is weary.

Mom is teary.

Mom is moving forward.

I’m mom.

While I want to quit and runaway and hide for a few hours, I can’t. I have to stand firm. I don’t do what I feel. I do what I know I would want to do if I was feeling strong emotionally and spiritually. I keep praying constantly for direction—just the next step. Moment by moment.

I do what I don’t feel like doing.

I’m not being fake, I’m being self-disciplined and working out my salvation.

I make my emotions my slave.

I will not allow this sadness to fuel sinful thoughts and actions any longer.

I burn the ships.

No more going back there.

I now have what feels like nothing and everything at the same time.

I’m a kid again, craving my Heavenly Father with child like faith.

Lord, I’m empty. Emotionally bankrupt. Please fill me. I have nothing left to give. I trust you in this moment. I don’t have to have it all figured out.

I just have to have You.

Thank you for forgiving me.

Please help me to forgive others again and again. Amen.