The struggle is real…

I began writing this post several (over 6) months ago. I suppose I felt as if it were too emotional of a post to share… something too raw, too much pain seeping out the sides… something I obviously didn’t want to post, but I didn’t want to trash either.

Post starts here:

The struggle is real. My struggle is real.

I’d be lying if I said I always immediately think of what Jesus would do in my struggle. I’d be lying if I said I have forgiven all guilty parties. I’d be lying if I said I have completely anger-free days. I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t thought of how much easier it would be to not live this life. I’d be lying if, right now, I said that I’m not struggling today.

While I am immensely aware that my struggle is real, I am quick to forget how real my God is… how much more capable He is of carrying my burden than I am… how He is working all of this, every single detail, for the good… how He has always been in the business of restoration… and so much more.

My emotions are bubbling up today. I am more than ready to bless someone out, but not in the southern woman kind of way… I won’t be saying, “Oh, bless your heart!” I am ready to let those who have hurt me know just how much wrong they’ve done.

I feel… I guess it would be helpful to think a little here… to get a grip on these overwhelming emotions and remind myself of some truth that is never-changing, unlike emotions.

I know

Post ends here. I’m not sure how that last sentence was going to end… Who doesn’t like a little mystery?

Visiting old writing is like digging up a time capsule, cracking it open & finding a younger version of yourself displayed in the items it contained. I see growth. I see movement along the non-linear, kind-of-cyclical path of grief.

I am knocking on wood as you each of you reads this. You knock on wood, too, just for good measure.

I feel like I’ve reached the acceptance stage of my grief journey. Insert sigh of relief here. There. I said it. Did you knock on wood? I don’t want to jinx myself.

I know it ebbs & flows. There will be times when I’ll revert back to “earlier stages.”

Most days, I’m living in acceptance & it feels good. It feels free. It feels lighter.

That’s not to say that I’ve fully forgiven any of my parents, because I haven’t. I honestly have no idea when that will take place. How do you ever fully forgive someone who commits the same deeply hurtful offense against you every single day? Daily, I suppose, is the answer. I forgive them daily… I try to, at least. I recognize that the days when I least feel like praying for them are the days that I need to pray more fervently for them. I think the devil would have me follow my feelings & just live in & out of my hurt, so I try to combat that as best I can.

So, to complete that months-old, unfinished sentence…

I know that Jesus has been the one to bring me this far through the grief. I know that this cross is mine to bear & it’s mine on purpose. I know that God will honor my obedience. I know that my story isn’t over yet. I know God has more restoration to come.

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