I spent an evening last week talking with a neighbor. Neighbor doesn't really do the relationship justice, however. She is supposed to be in my life. Hand planted by the One who knows what I need, even when I don't.
She was determined to get my story. The whole story, warts and all. And so under a Carolina moon on a sweltering night, she got it.
And as I talked I felt the old feelings well up and spill over, like a wound reopened. They rose in my throat. They tingled through my hands and feet. They cut through all of the carefully cultivated and determined prayers I have said to secure them safely.
They were brought up from a deep ocean and thrown onto my shore. And as I looked at all of these things, the detritus of a life I never chose and a life that scarred me, I felt free.
Free.
Because I OWNED all of it. The pain and the wounds and the fury. The hurt and abandonments. I owned it all. I took it all in and wrenched out every bit of learning from it.
And I wouldn't change one moment. Not ONE.
God gave these things to me. He trusted me to walk through what others couldn't. He gave my soul into a life that would break others. He handed me these circumstances. He hand chose the people who would surround me. His choice.
And instead of feeling burdened, I feel privileged. I feel honored to carry these things. They have formed me. They have created a gratitude for the simplest of things that I never would have known before. They cut me deep, and then filled me to the brim with knowledge.
I have walked a lonely road at times. I have been sad and abandoned. I have been tossed away. I have been orphaned even when my parents walked this earth. But I have also been scooped up. I have been rescued. I have been held and loved. He hands picked people to show me what love is. He gave me amazing examples of His grace.
I have scars. But I also have joy. I have a life now I never could have predicted. I have a length and breadth of happiness I do not deserve, but that I treasure at every second.
And I have that all because of what came before.
I am stronger for my brokeness. I am healed even as I trace the scars of other's anger on my skin. I am grateful for the air in my lungs and the life in my body. I am honored to carry this precious pain, honored that He would see me as strong enough to bear it.
And I am a better person because of the worst that was done to me.
