I used to write poetry all the time. I sat down to write a few times today...but the words would not come.
Found myself in a conversation this morning about the challenges of Exodus 20:12, when the command is to love what seems unloveable. The scars I carry are not visible and they are continually reopened. There are times in which interactions are without conflict. And after a few of these, I even begin to develop a sense of hope, that perhaps things are changing.
And then the other shoe drops.
The harsh words and abuse begin again and I leave feeling broken, weak, and worthless--never enough. Even if not directed soley at me, those wounds tear open and I am 13 again, even for a moment.
But the truth is, I know that I am not the person that individual believes me to be. And in fact, those angry words are a reflection pain and not the Truth.
It was said last night, "I feel like I don't even have kids" and while it hurt, I understood the feeling. It is similar to one I've had for years...that I didn't have parents. And as I drove away, with the conversation swirling in my mind, the term orphan came to mind.
But, I am not an orphan. I have a family who loves me, to whom I am enough, just as I am. And I do have parents--who did the best they could in their brokenness.
In this discussion, it was suggested I check out askquestions.org. So, I asked the question "how to honor an abusive parent." I have included the link to the response here if others want to read it.
We are called to love the unloveable things that broken people do. And in that love for them, we shine light where there is darkness.
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