Thursday, March 31, 2016

Emptiness, Forgiveness

I'm sick. The little kids have all been sick, too, and sometimes I think it's kinder for everyone to go down at once, but it hasn't gone that way, this time; someone has been sick for weeks, and maybe it's the flu: exhaustion, body aches, light fever, and worst of all, a pervasive, hacking cough: the kind that doesn't go away with hot drinks, cold drinks, cough drops, or nebulizer treatments. The kind that makes your ribs hurt.

I could easily write a blog post about my physical sickness, but I'm more interested in thinking and writing about what happens to me when my defenses are down. I become every wounded age I've ever been. I feel as hollow as a wing bone, which is to say that I wrestle with a sense of emptiness. The fact that I can name it is progress. The fact that I can have conversations with myself about it is progress.

When I feel empty, I (think I) want everyone I've ever lost to come back. I (think I) want everyone who's ever hurt me to show up and say (s)he's sorry.

But I know I don't: not really. What would I do with all those people in my current state? I'm sick as a dog. I'm wearing neither make-up nor a bra.

The fact that I can identify that I don't really want everyone I've ever lost to come back--or everyone who's ever hurt me to show up and say (s)he's sorry--is progress. I used to take my (yet unnamed) feelings of emptiness and do dangerous, destructive things. Sometimes it worked out (kind of); for example, I reconnected with Jim in an effort to fill a (perceived) void. I didn't know it then, but I know it, now. I was in the throes of a break-up with another man, and Jim was someone I'd lost some thirteen years before. He was someone who had hurt me. (I had hurt him, too.)

But I've gone off course. In my physical sickness, my defenses are down. I feel empty, and so many difficult memories have come to mind over the last couple days. And this is where I want to go with this post: instead of doing dangerous, destructive things, I am learning to turn to God. More specifically, I am learning to ask God to forgive me for my unforgiveness of others. I came across this concept in Stormie Omartian's Lord, I Want to Be Whole. It rattled my cage to the point that I put the book down for something like a month. Really, God? You want me to confess when I was the person wronged? You want me to ask Your forgiveness for my unforgiveness toward these people who hurt me so deeply? And, yes. I do think that's what God is asking of me. Furthermore (and this really hurts my brain), I think He wants me to seek His forgiveness for my unforgiveness of myself. Because if He has forgiven me for something, who am I to hold and use it against myself?

I'm finding that it's one thing to say I want to forgive someone and another altogether to confess and seek forgiveness for my unforgiveness. I'm finding that it's still a process: that--for deep-seated hurts I've carried for years and years--I often have to confess and ask for forgiveness and help over and over. But I'm hopeful.

I'm not hopeful that everyone I've ever lost will come back or that everyone who's ever hurt me will show up and say (s)he's sorry. Even if that were realistic, it would be unrealistic to expect that I would be able to process the situation or words. Just after the holidays, in fact, someone who hurt me when I was a child apologized to me in a very sincere way (again). That doesn't mean I've managed to forgive him, but the work that needs to be done is mine.

The work that needs to be done is always mine. God is loving and merciful. He wouldn't make my healing dependent upon the actions or words of others. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden," He says, "and I [not another human] will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28, KJV).

O Lamb of God, I come.

9 comments:

  1. All hard lessons to learn. Beautiful words. I love you sister! You are brave!

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    1. Thank you for saying that I'm brave. There is a sort of bravery, I think, in doing something different instead of doing the things one has always done. Those things, no matter how destructive, are the things that feel normal/natural. And there is a sort of bravery in facing oneself and realizing/admitting that's one's normal isn't. Normal.

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  2. Oh, how you sound so much like me! I've been really struggling with my feelings about a friend who walked out of my life. Stormie Omartian's book has been my frequent re-read book when dealing with my wounded heart.

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    1. I am not surprised (and somewhat proud, to be honest) that I sound like you. I used to assume that everyone was like we are but know, now, that the attachments we form are different from those of most others. Our difficulty / flat refusal to let people go stems from early experiences with abandonment. I wasn't abandoned physically, as you were, but I was abandoned emotionally. It took more than forty years for me to see that, let alone begin to address it.

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  3. Wow. This is so timely for my heart. I am chewing on what you said about seeking God's forgiveness for my unforgiveness of myself. And that is super amazing that you are able to recognize the empty feeling leading to the destructive wants. You're doing hard work, my friend. Thank you for sharing your wisdom. Always blessed by your words.

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    1. This has been a season of very hard work, and I don't always feel like I've entered it willingly. I feel, instead, like things have happened continuously that have almost forced me to deal with my garbage. I try to receive that as God's mercy (even if it feels incredibly painful) because I don't believe He wants that garbage (or anything that hurts us) in there...also because I don't think He would bring us to the point of dealing if we weren't ready. Sometimes I feel frustrated that it's taken so long for me to start to see things (let alone recover from them), but I know that in all reality I wasn't ready, before.

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  4. I love what Christy said up there........YOU ARE BRAVE! WHy does being physically ill make one go to these deep dark places in their head? Maybe this is how the Lord can use this time to get us back on track for healing mentally and physically. You know how when you give advice and then BOOM the Lord brings something to your table that makes you 'practice what you preach'? Yip, I'm there...I just gave advice on forgiveness and now I'm having to turn around and forgive where I don't want to or feel like it, or think that it is deserved but (sigh) it's the right thing. I hate when that happens. So, no advice here darlin' just lots of love sent your way, think about you OFTEN. Love ya to pieces.

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    1. I am thankful to be sick very rarely, although physical illness is really just one of many triggers for me. I have to be careful not to get too tired in any respect. And I have to be really careful to consciously and carefully think and pray my way through situations that involve loss, whether real (death/grief/severed relationships) or perceived (strained or troubled relationships). Because those situations can very easily spark my feelings of abandonment and emptiness, at which point I can very easily make poor choices.

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  5. Oh, you're doing good, beautiful work, Brandee. Yes, you are.

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