the door is shut
thank god the door is closed. that statement/thought seems so wrong. i don’t want to thank him because it feels wrong to be grateful; it feels unloving to be grateful; it feels belittling of the door’s attendant, whom I have loved for so long, to be grateful. so in spite of this, because god knows what i cannot know, peering far into my future, emerging with me from my past, and whispering comfort even now, knowing each hair on my head, i thank god for my own spiritual health and well being. i am ashamedly learning to be grateful that the door is closed.
i shall not want
he makes me lie down in green pastures
he leads me beside quiet waters
he restores my soul
i will forgive him for so many many hurtful things–doesn't matter if they were right or wrong, good or bad, simply that they struck at my core with deep wounding. seven times seventy. i will forgive like the father not the elderly brother. so if amends are ever offered, if forgiveness is ever sought, i will open myself to it. i will risk. i will not withhold. i will trust. i will forgive. i will embrace. i will not turn away or hold at a distance. if the day ever comes when my amends are no longer rejected but accepted and i am forgiven, i will open myself to it. i will risk. i will not withhold. i will trust. all i know is i am not the elder brother–i simply can't live that way.
I am learning to try and stop looking for amends allow or offered; I am learning to try and stop looking to be forgiven or having my forgiveness accept. I am learning to stop expecting them to own or take responsibility for their own actions. I am learning ti try and stop expecting those things to be different, there is simply no historical pattern or evidence for those possibilities. I must stop trying and hoping for that. It simply is not possible.
And I catch myself looking and trying again today and recognize this as unhealthy behavior on my part. I recognize that beating my head gently or not, lovingly or not, on this door is about me. Everytime I have knocked on this door no matter the different ways I have tried result in the same thing. So that I still try, is sickness. It is sickness to try and love what does not want to be loved it is si kness to try and heal what does not want to be healed it is sickness to try and connect were connection is not wanted. It is sickness to try and make right what is not wantedto be made right. It is sickness on my part. It reveals my unhealthiness to me. I must stop doing it and a part of me wants to know why I do it. Why, so that I don't end up here again.