My Verse

Isaiah 43:1

"But now, thus says the Lord, your Creator, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Isreal, "Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine!"

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

The Looking Glass

I see my past,
glimpses in a looking glass
Fragments of time,
that seem forever etched in my mind

I see the present,
My heart so tired and spent
As my life goes so fast
like sand slipping through an hour glass

Today, I remembered a time in my life that the pain was so great. It felt as though Ihad walked through a looking glass, and was living it all again. I was getting ready to leave for spring break. I had to find a way to get out of my house. The stress had just been too great. My dad (the person that adopted me when my mom passed away) and I had been at each others throats like crazy. I knew that if I didn't get away, things could really get ugly. I planned a visit to my other dads home for the week. I came home from church on that Sunday afternoon to grab my bags, and meet him in Abilene with some friends. I don't remember what I did wrong, but I'm sure I didn't clean something or left something turned on. I don't remember anything else before then really, I just remember that fight. The yelling, the pushing, the anger. I know that it wasn't what I wanted, and yet maybe I did. Maybe I wanted a reason to leave, a reason to run away. I just remember the last words that he said to me. "I hate you, and I hope you never come back." It stung me. I muster all my strength for a just as equally hurtful blow, "I hope so too!" Or something like that I'm sure. All I wanted was for someone to accept me. To love me. I had made a choice when my mom died to stay with a man who was not related to me at all. But all those years that she was alive he had become my father, the person I looked to, the person I loved as a father, no a dad. I had walked away from the other, and chosen him. And I stood there in the living room of the house, and felt the rejection. I could barely contain the tears long enough to leave so he wouldn't see. I couldn't let him know he had hurt me so much. I had to be tough, strong, unbreakable!

Sometimes I feel that way with God. Like I have done something wrong and we're standing in that same room fighting like cats and dogs, bent on killing each other. I am so afraid that I will hear those words again. I know that God's love is unending, but what else do I have to go on?

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