3/14/10
"Oh Emilie" she said matter-of-factly "Everyone knew." She said it so carelessly, as if it were yesterdays gossip and not a big deal. She probably didn't mean it how it sounded but it still struck a deep nerve.
Maybe its true….
"Yea but you don't know how many, and what it cost me, and how hard it was!" I replied harshly, a little too harshly for someone who has been "over it" for quite some time. Whatever "over it" means.
Maybe everyone did know, but no one had the guts to do anything about it. They were silent. I'm not sure whats worse, those who didn't know but should have, or those that knew and did nothing….no, I know whats worse. The second. You are responsible for what you know. And some people did. They knew what went on, but they sat back, figured it wasn't their problem. Maybe they hid behind God, "Oh, he'll tell her! Its not my business" To use God as a shield for your cowardice, your passivity.
They didn't know what it had cost me. They had no idea. It may be common knowledge now. It was a secret I had tried to keep safe for a long time; halfway believing that it was my fault. More than half, if I'll be honest. "If I had been…if I were…If I had done….then this wouldn't have…he wouldn't have…I could have…"
But its all wrong. All of it.
And those that knew. How could you? You were supposed to be my brother! You were supposed to protect me and you knew what was going on! What were you thinking?? How can I trust you? How can I forgive you?
Everyone knew, but no one cared enough to help. Everyone knew, but no one felt "called" to lend a hand. If everyone knew, then why did I do this alone?
Why was I alone?
I know why I was alone. I put up a good face. I suck it up like a good Christian and plow ahead while bowing politely and saying "Bless you!' and "God is good!" while my insides are burning and my life is falling apart. "God, just let me get through this day" was a constant prayer. At home, I had all the time in the world to think….and thinking was my worst enemy.
I remember when my "good days" were few and far between, and how much I coveted the life that came with them, a respite, the breathe at the surface while overall I was drowning. Then the "bad days" would come like an ill favored guest.
I remember when I told Carrie that there were more "good days" than bad. I remember how pleased I was, I felt like I was moving forward, onward, upward.
I think it took longer, because of all the set backs that happened. All the new news that found it necessary to make its way to my attention.
Very quickly I understood the phrase, "No news is good news."
It has two meanings actually
1) The fact that there is no news, is incredibly awesome
2) If there is news, it will inevitably be bad
I know both of these meanings intimately
Time heals all wounds….does it? God uses time, to be sure. Time alone probably can't heal all wounds. But with the passing of time, things have healed. I am so thankful that my good days way outnumber the bad. I am happy. More happy than I can ever recall being in the past. I feel free and able to live. So don't be mistaken: my life is incredible, and I would never switch my life for anyone's.
As I look back, I realize more and more how much I could never have gotten this far without my friends who love me. Even those that don't know as much, it doesn't matter. I know that they love me unconditionally, and that's what I needed and that's what I need. I am forever indebted to my friends. Thank you for listening to my tears, to my rantings, to my joys, and my fears. Thank you for feeding me the truth with patience, when I could no longer find what's true myself. I love you all so much, and each of you have impacted me more than you could ever imagine. You are all amazing women of God, and one day I hope to be like you. Fur realz, I wouldn't have made it without you. I am very VERY blessed.
However,recently I have been frustrated that I am not "as over it" as I feel that I should be or believed that I was. I'm not in love with the fact that careless words still feel like a slap. I don't enjoy being haunted by memories. I don't care for the fear that still lingers inside of me; the deep venom that still comes up every once and again; the deep hurt that I still feel due to a number of related things.
But the author and finisher of this faith said that He would fix it as if it had never happened.
I know that it wasn't by happenstance that this all occurred, even the messed up parts. I know that I wasn't alone for it; and I know that parts of this story that I am still angry about happened for very specific and intentional reasons…
~~~~~but that doesn't make it hurt less
~~~~~but I still can't sleep at night
~~~~~but I still want to chew them out big time
~~~~~but I still have to write this all out at 1AM so it doesn't fester.
~~~~~but I'm still angry at you, God.
I'm Sorry…
......But
...........I Am
..................Still
.......................Very
..............................A. N. G. R. Y.
Sometimes I am sorry for this
Sometimes I am afraid of this
Sometimes I feel guilty for this
Sometimes I feel wrong for this
Sometimes I don't care
It's because I still don't Understand you God.
Who are you?
You're the God who loved us so much that you sent your son to die for us
But you're also the God who became angry and burnt up the outskirts of the Israelite village.
You demand respect, simply because of who you are
But you love me so terribly much, you come and rescue me when I am no good to you at all
You are justice. You hate sin.
You are mercy. You are grace.
You are holy.
But what does this mean? How do I act? What can I do? not do? how do I be? what do I get away with? when do you smite me? what if I cursed you?
I've run out of answers.
I need your help.
Show me grace God, I have no idea what I'm doing.
Fix this. Please.
Help me to sleep.
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