I find it very difficult to let people know how I am feeling. I find it hard to admit my own struggles, my disappointments, my fears. I bury sadness deep. I don’t even whisper anger, resentment, bitterness. I hide from it. I avoid it. I deny it.
Over the past six weeks I have been involved in a small group that is gently and progressively chipping away at my protective layers. I have cried in front of them more than I cry in front of most. I have admitted things to them that I have rarely even admitted to myself. Their response, their gentle non-judgment, has helped me see the beauty in opening up.
This little community of people has been there to hold the box of tissues as I spill my fear and pain and in every attentive eye and listening ear I feel deeply accepted. These few are helping me feel not-so-alone on the long journey of deep healing that I am just barely able to admit that I need.
Since this process has started I have begun to feel my Spirit fill up again. I have begun to allow love and light into my bitter heart and I have begun to feel like I am not the wounded, bruised woman that I was hiding away in shame, but simply a daughter on a path that has had a few thorns.
[Our responses and reactions to the things that happen around us reveal the depth of our character and nature. They are opportunities, also, to show the character and love of God. This Lenten Season I am practicing awareness by looking for deep truth in everyday things. Check out other posts under Lent.]