Today after a exhausting therapy session I was intimidated by the task assigned to me by my therapist. I completed it with tears rolling down my cheeks. Jace instinctively knew I needed his snuggles as he curled up next to me putting my arm around him. Our little always know when we are sad.
My weekly appointments have been challenging, energizing and empowering. They have also left me at times in a puddle on the floor.
I have come to the realization that I have so much proverbial baggage to unpack. None of us get to 55 years old without a few overstuffed suitcases, now do we? I feel like mine are coming at me like I’m at the airport waiting , yet every bag has my name on it.
We talked about my earliest memory. I didn’t even have to think about it. It had to be late Spring 1966 which puts me at two and a half years old. Mom and Dad took us to check on the progress of our house at 2732 Prescott Drive. I recall just the bones of the house, running around on the subfloor of what eventually became the living room and kitchen. The studded walls were up and I can still remember the scent of the lumber. She asked how I felt in the memory, to which my reply was “happy”. Earliest memories are usually traumatic, so she was surprised.
Back to my assignment. I was given the challenge to reach out to someone who I love dearly, wherein lies an unresolved conflict. It tears at the very heart of my being, yet I have no control over the outcome. I have done my share, I have said my piece, I have made my feelings clear and concise. In turn I defined my understanding of their position as best I could. After all, perception is our reality. It may not be someone elses.
On this Thursday night, I lay this situation at His feet….all the while desperately reaching for the hem of his garment. Maybe, just maybe a healing will take place. I take that back, not maybe. A healing WILL take place. In which way that is still unknown…still to be decided.
So, I wait. I weep. I know of the joy that the morning will bring.
Be a blessing,
God is close to the broken hearted. -Psalm 34:18