It was the body of unforgiveness I carried with me. Visions of an enshrouded corpse, the smell of death permeated my every step. It was a heavy burden to carry, but it had been with me so long I didn't know it was there. A paradox of vision, duplicity of soul, obscured identity, beneath the agony of this load. My muscles were taut, always working to carry it. It was not strange.
And yet, ond day as God began to touch this body of death, pain began to appear. Life began to flow into this corpse, once forgotten, and then I became aware that I was carrying this wounded person. The load was unbearable. I hated it. Each movement hurt. I cried to be delivered from this burden so great.
Each step forward into God's light, God's truth, each memory remembered, forgiven, the wounds began to heal. That part of myself that was lost, has begun to find it's way. We are walking side by side. Sometimes limping, leaning, we must stop to rest. I must love and nurture what I once fled.
I found this recently as I went through some old papers of mine. Yes, I wrote this about 19 years ago and I am happy to say that we are no longer side by side but one. I now continue to nurture those parts of myself that become evident as time passes. It is certainly a life long process but OHHH what a wonderful gift to be healing and growing as God's child. I pray this for each and every one of you. Peace, Jeanne
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1 comments:
This is lovely. Thanks for sharing. I wish you peace, as well, Jeanne.
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