Good friends, readers, family. It has been awhile. Been walking through the early steps of the latest layer in my recovery journey and today my heart began to soften though tears and an admission that there were still places that I had locked away from all view, and had even forgotten of their existence. Why, how could I yield these to God and to the recovery process when they had dropped off the map of my consciousness?
But this morning, kind of like a sci-fi movie, the invisible ink on the map reappeared and showed me rooms and spaces with things dusty and uncared for tucked away that could no longer be ignored. Even writing this now hurts me from inside out. But it’s the kind of hurt that will push the changes forward. The kind that will pull down the walls of pride and self-determination that have kept me trapped in unhealthy behaviors and a cycle of demeaning self-talk for my failure to change this on my own.
But through recovery, as I yield to the process, I know God’s healing rests on the other side of my willingness to place one foot in front of another. I gulp hard with each step that crumbles the last of my ego and pride where this layer is concerned. The pain is intense. But I press on.
Your rod and staff, they comfort me.