To my heart sister that hurts…

whole

Heart sister that hurts…

That feels ashamed, broken, dirty, and damaged. It’s going to be okay. Not because your pain is going to get wrapped up nicely with a bow and placed on a shelf. But because this pain that you’ve hidden…you don’t have to bear alone.

When you feel it stirring up the first thought is to squash it down. Fearful if you don’t, it will wash over you like that wave you never saw coming. I get it. We all want protection and hurt looks like a bad intruder that needs to be shot upon sight.

If only it were that simple. If one tough blow would make it all go away. Like a selective bout of amnesia that would wipe out the negative and leave the positive. But life isn’t like that. It is dichotomous. The good with the bad. The renewed with the broken. The cleansing breath that comes only after a struggle for air.

And I have been there. So oppressed by darkness that it seems the light will never filter through. It sits upon us like a cold weighted blanket. The discomfort that makes a stomach turn and the little girl inside begin to quiver. She doesn’t know how to let go, walk on, or wiggle free.

If I could say one thing to you, it would be that this healing thing is a process. The part of you that is waiting on a magical moment when the clouds part and the wet spots on the pavement disappear…maybe you are waiting on the wrong thing. Because even when the clouds part, the wet spots often remain.

They are holes dug deep into the fabric of your soul. At first they filled with waters of self-hate and shame…but Jesus…He dips His finger into the puddle and stirs up unconditional love and acceptance.

There’s a special kind of dirty grace water that exists in this space. It’s the combination of a healing father and a little girl who still very much identifies with pain. She is healed but hasn’t forgotten what it is like to be broken. Nor should or will she, because these special places are given stay, that God might use her hand to help set a fellow captive free.

This pain that remains…what would happen if we stopped fighting it and trying to place it on that cold dusty shelf? What if we invited it in to sit for a while…and when I say a while…I mean forever…

It hurts…she hurts…the piece of you that you left out in the cold is hurting.

And doesn’t she deserve to be invited home as well? Doesn’t she deserve to come with you on this journey? Don’t you want her to come no matter how dirty the marks are that mask her teary face?

Let her come. Let the pain come. Let it come with you. It’s mild and meek compared to the strength Christ has provided. That little girl from the past, the remnant of pain that remains, it won’t overtake you.

Sweet sister with a heart that is hurting…let the part of you that is less than perfect in…let her come…let her see that she is loved…that Jesus died for her too…and that this space is safe for her to remain.

 

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Comments

  1. Christine says

    I know that we have walked the same path Stephanie. You put words to my feelings. Something I haven’t been able to do.

    “So oppressed by darkness that it seems the light will never filter through. It sits upon us like a cold weighted blanket. The discomfort that makes a stomach turn and the little girl inside begin to quiver. ”

    You make hope seem possible. I appreciate also that you explain how God fits into all of this.

    “The part of you that is waiting on a magical moment when the clouds part and the wet spots on the pavement disappear…maybe you are waiting on the wrong thing. Because even when the clouds part, the wet spots often remain.”

    Maybe I am waiting on the wrong thing. That is an interesting thought.
    I appreciate your views and willingness to speak to those of us that are still in the middle of the struggle.

    • stephanieclayton says

      Sweet friend can I pray for you? God bless my beautiful sister with your peace. Implant in her heart the peace of your presence now, help her know she doesn’t have to have it all together before she can enjoy and live her life in all of the fullness you offer. Give her wisdom and discernment as she takes every step in the freedom you have already given her. Ease the fear of her pain and help her see its not unbearable and that the very things we often try to push away are what keeps us close and in communion with you. You love me Jesus. You love us all so deeply. It’s in Your Name I pray, Amen.

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