Part of my journey these last few months has been digging into the things that have made me who I am. The hardest part has been the assignments to journal my past – good bad and ugly. In that I have taken a side journey into the power of words. Not just the spoken but the written, and their meanings. Now with meaning I am learning some is intended and some is implied. Regardless, words carry the power of life and death just as scripture speaks.
This journey has been painful, but, if I am honest, that pain has always been there, I have just hidden behind pleasing others, denial in some cases and food in others. Wounded people wound people. I know this. I have been the wounded and the “wounder”.
This journey has not been easy. It has meant a retreat, hurtful at times, though not intended, but extremely necessary as I learn to tread water before I can swim to shore. I am sure on that day, the day when I walk up on the sand and sink into my Heavenly Fathers lap after our long “swim”, on that day I will be made new, renewed even. For until I deal with these wounds, I cannot truly be free.