Along the way I’ve discovered there are times when I must forgive before being asked—even if it’s a silent “I forgive you” whispered into the night.
For me, forgiveness was the key to releasing my heavy chains of pain and guilt. It wasn’t until God gave me the strength to forgive that the healing could truly begin.
I picked up a pen and began to write. I allowed all my pain and frustration to freely flow onto the pages. The torrent of words shouted my pain. I poured my hurt onto stark, indifferent pages. The lines of black letters marched across the page forming a battalion of hurt, a garrison of anger, an army of accusations.
I raised my pen for years until my voice was hoarse from shouting.
But when I finally stopped shouting long enough to hear God’s still small voice, I picked up my pen and began to write different words—words of peace instead of words of conflict, words of forgiveness instead of words of combat, words of love instead of words of war.
I released the pain, the anger, the frustration, the hate, and said “I forgive you.” The power of those three words set me free.
Instead of having a heart filled with pain, my heart was filled with love. I was finally able to see the truth instead of the ugly lies I had repeated to myself all those wasted years. I recognized the truth about myself, the truth about my family—the truth about my God.
The lies that I’d whispered to myself, screamed at my parents, and cried onto paper lost their power. They lay limp and lifeless on the page—no longer able to raise the battle cry. I buried their lifeless corpses and embraced a larger truth—Love.
So join me as I allow the voice of Holy Spirit to change the words in my life, thus transforming my journey of sorrow into a journey of joy.
Naked and Vulnerable (Thoughts from the Pot): The ideas I repeat to the woman in the mirror, or yell at her husband, will become my reality.
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