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A Reminder for Myself

I love to write because it is a way of getting the hurricane of thoughts in my head out. I think and think, and then think some more, but all this thinking never leads to a solution, usually just more confusion. I’ve concluded that I do this because I don’t want to project my feelings onto other people, and I don’t like feeling vulnerable: two very selfish things. I’ve also been hurt. And not the kind of hurt that goes away with a good workout and a fun girls night. The kind of hurt that literally breaks your heart; I’ve had days where I was ok with not doing a single thing ever again. 

I spent the majority of 2018 learning to love myself, and loving being alone with my thoughts. I came to a point where I was comfortable with being vulnerable enough to really like someone again. Only to be absolutely steamrolled. What’s new?

Fear of loving has a way of creeping up on you. You can spot it at first and you are hopeful enough to tell it to get lost. But then it gets sneaky, and slowly but surely fear becomes your shadow. It is the worst kind of baggage because you know it’s there and you know that it’s heavy, but you don’t know how to get rid of it. The only solution to fear is love itself, but when you are afraid of love, that becomes an obvious problem. 

It’s like wanting ice cream but knowing that you’re so lactose intolerant it will kill you. Pretty sucky right?

So then you have to rely on the very being that gives you life: God. As cliche as that sounds, only He truly knows what it’s like. I’ve had very candid conversations with Heavenly Father, asking and pleading with Him not to let me be hurt. Time and time again, a single phrase comes to mind: “thank you for cutting me down, and loving me enough to hurt me.” 

If you’re never broken, you can’t be fixed; and the best mending is done by the hands that were nailed to a cross for you. As scary as everything is, we are in hands that will never let us go.

So when the hurricane starts to blow, I remember that I am responsible for creating part of the storm, a part that I can give to Heavenly Father and let him calm. The other part is for me to weather with faith and learn from. 

So next time life is unfair or mean or painful, quietly say, “thank you for cutting me down, and loving me enough to hurt me.” I promise you that if you listen, you’ll be able to hear a tender voice whisper back, “I am here, just be patient, you’ll blossom soon enough.”

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