I’m a coward. I have realized that yet again I’ve let emotions sneak up on me and threaten my ability to get through life the way that I want to. Let me explain: I refuse to accept things sometimes and it makes me miserable, frustrated, angry, and other emotions as well, which effects whatever relationships, work or fun I’m involved with in the moment.
I’m still not entirely sure as to why this is how I do things, but I believe it has to do with me being a coward.
I’ve been in a funk the past few days and I realized very quickly what the reason was but I also haven’t been able to admit it to anyone, much less myself. I think that part of it is that I don’t want to be the whiney girl who has other people taking care of her or dealing with her not being able to get over things… because I’m not actually that girl and I’ve never had to be taken care of that way. People have “been there” for me, but I don’t necessarily need to be coddled. And I know that what is going on is something I can handle. That knowledge only makes me want to not handle what’s going on all the more, considering if I can handle what’s going down in my heart it can probably be put off for a few more hours, days, weeks, months, etc. But in this case, it won’t be. And that’s my decision because I don’t want to have it stuck to me like a mold because I just won’t face it. I should be brave enough to handle whatever is happening in my heart because God has my back. And I should be real enough with myself and whoever reads this not to lie to myself.
And to add to this list of things that are wrong with me that you already most likely can Intuit, I’m really heartbroken. I don’t say this to be dramatic, and I don’t say it to be a victim. I went into a relationship that I was hoping I would never have to leave, and I left the relationship wounded. My inability to admit that to myself and others is really not going to be aiding my healing, although I don’t feel it necessary to bring up and discuss at all times, or with friends of certain familiarity. Because sometimes talking over the situation or the things that happened doesn’t help, because I know what’s good and true and that there’s a plan for me, but I feel devastated. Because I don’t want to hear the hard truth when I’m coming off as doubtful or discouraged or depressed, because I end up being angry at the person delivering to me something I already have. (that happens when I’m not accepting how I feel, not necessarily when I’m honest with myself and others about it) I don’t want to be looked at with pity, and I don’t want to be rehashing moments that lead up to what hurts so much, and I don’t want to be explaining or justifying or blaming. At this point I just need to accept that I’m hurt, and even worse, that I have hurt someone. I don’t know how much I hurt him, but I know that I did or else things wouldn’t be the way that they are. And I can’t blame, because if it were right for me to do so at this time I would have been perfect for him and visa versa. But it wasn’t, and all I can do is handle what I’ve gotten myself: a broken heart, a void in my life that was filled with a person, and amazing pink sweat pants.
I’ve been praying that God would give me the ability to move with him, to let me be like that birds in Jeremiah 8:7 and not the people.
Even the stork in the sky
knows her appointed seasons,
and the dove, the swift and the thrush
observe the time of their migration.
But my people do not know
the requirements of the LORD.
And I’ve been trying to invest my time and energy into things that are of worth and that will bring about good fruit. But I also, I now know, will need time to be hurt in order to get past it. I’m going to take a little time to be broken and not feel guilty about it, to be a wreck and not feel the need to hide the truth. Because when I do that I end up bringing my heart to God, and when I give it fully to him I know that he will bring more healing than I can accept is possible. And I feel comfortable doing this because I know that experiencing pain is a human thing, and that bringing it to God is the better thing. I know that no matter what my mind and my heart are telling me about what’s happened, I have a truth to cling to that will never tell me that I’m the worst, only that I’m one of the children.