when you're hard on yourself

She walked away when she was only 12 yrs old. Never thinking it brave.


Survival meant leaving and never coming back.


Her younger sister remembers nothing.  Not one thing of all those years. The older one took care of the younger one as she screamed hysterically once the voices started to intensify.


They both knew, violence was soon to follow.


So when the divorce happened, they were relieved instead of sad. For once, they felt safe.


Visitations came in summer.


Until that last summer when the older sister knew this would be their last.


They were too young and weak to be left here again. Danger was too close to the surface, harm only a quick snap away. Violation too possible and probable for a return trip.


I've known the older sister for a long while now.


Some days I see her struggle. With herself and others, between being strong and weak. All those young years of hers, being strong makes being weak hard.


God knows she needs to be weak, so He can be strong.


Breakthrough only comes by Love and she lets it come. Otherwise she will only break herself, eventually.


I look at her and want to hug her, tell her it's ok to be broken and Loved. It doesn't mean you always love well. It just means you are always loving more as He pours it into the well of you.


So I'd say "Go easy on yourself,  until it's time to make change. Then go full gusto, hard-pressed toward the Spirit that blows change in. You don't need to know where It comes or where It goes, just flow with It.


With Him."


Accept who you really are. Ugly mess who wants to only make pretty. A broken vessel that doesn't want to be shattered. A past you wish you could bury. Friendships you are always struggling for better.


It is ok to be human and flawed.




Just don't wallow in it.


Fly like a kite, tethered to the ground by that fleshy string while also whipping up heights by the wind of His Spirit.


Keep pressing high, I'd say.


Then I'd turn the light off because I'll be back.


We are only a short distance anyway.


Mirrors never travel far before I'm looking in one again.


{This is part of my story. Sometimes I tell it in 3rd person because the past seems so far away, like it was someone else's life lived through me.}









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