Posted in Family, indigo inspiration, Insane in the Brain, Living Water, of yore, Thanks for the memories

Please keep ripping my heart out.

The phrase that comes to mind is “casting your pearls before swine.”

The fact that I walked away from the relationship doesn’t mean I don’t forgive.  It doesn’t mean that a part of me won’t always grieve for what should have been.  It doesn’t mean that I don’t rejoice in the knowledge that with heaven comes wholeness, and that they and we will have healthy minds and hearts capable of knowing and being known.

It means I am well-er.  That I have prioritized my own health so that I can seek and know Him, the knowledge of Whom was nearly decimated by the 2 from whom I walked away.  That I know God has placed me in a family, and I do not take that lightly.  That I am responsible for my own health and decisions.  Regardless of the havoc wreaked on me by my residence on planet earth.  That no matter/because of the pain my heart feels over the manipulation and rejection, it is my responsibility as a person, a child of God, a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, to be progressively more whole.

The enemy of our souls would love nothing better than for the broken to wallow in the fragments.  Embracing the shattered nature of our hearts cuts us further, cuts the people who come in contact with us.  Our God commands us to be and do that which only He can make us well enough to do and be.  So that we end the cycles of breaking and broken.  So that He is made glorious to ourselves and to those to whom we had previously played the porcupine. 

I went to see my new niece.

Grace Elizabeth O'Neill
Grace Elizabeth O’Neill

Today, she is 6 days old.  She is beautiful.  Her family is beautiful.  Her daddy, my brother, is broken, devastated by the childhood we shared.  And he keeps going back for more.  My heart breaks for him, but I cannot change him any more than I can change the people who birthed us into their insanity.  His heart is too soft and generous to long withstand the level of pain he continues to inflict upon himself and inevitably, eventually, his family.

I can only say that it has been a supernatural work of God’s love that has enabled me to make the choices I have made in response to the disaster that my heart has been.  I carry a question mark in my heart.  But “what if’s are stupid”.  I have to live in the “what is”.  And take responsibility for the status of my own person as the grown-ass adult that I am.

I see it like this: In the airport they tell you not to accept baggage from unknown people.  Suppose someone leaves baggage at your feet and walks away.  Quickly inform the important clipboard-wielding airport people and deal with your baggage, yo.  And don’t go back for more.  It’s your responsibility once it’s at your feet and blaming the terrorist who gave it to you won’t make it go away.  Nor will tracking down the terrorist and inviting them to join your flight.

“So, it’s like you made peace?”

That’s what my brother asked me.  I’d have to say “yes”. If peace is the absence of turmoil, and not associating with emotional terrorists removes the turmoil they bring to your life, then, yes.  I have brought peace to my family and myself by dealing with the baggage.  I’ve come to terms with the fact that they are ill.  The only relationship they wish to have with me is based on the version of reality that they, in their illness, have created.  They want contact with me as long as it entraps me in the game.  If I lend them control, they will seize it.  I do not play the game so they do not reach out to me, and therefore have proved to me that the game is what they were after.  Not me.  They want control.  Not love.  Because to them, love is control and instability and dependence are affection.

There is no fear in love.  They do not have love to offer me.  So I jealously guard the peace that I have learned to embrace.  And I eagerly await the healing of eternal life, both now and in heaven.

It’s not presumptuous to believe that He desires stability and wholeness for His children. 

It’s obedience.

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I rock. I also paper and scissors.

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