I’ve always had a decent temper. I have seasons in life where I am able to surrender it well and allow the Lord to redirect me. I have other seasons where I fail miserably. And it’s ugly.
It wasn’t until recently that I’ve been incredibly convicted of my recent anger issues. I’ve hidden behind a facade of post partum depression, anger at certain circumstances, frustration towards people. And now… Now I have little eyes watching me. Peering into my behavior whether it be big moments or small moments – a win or a loss.. These little eyes deserve to see a good example.
It was recently brought up to me that some of my anger may be related to unforgiveness.
It’s been almost a year since I had no other choice but to walk away from my very best friend and a man who was like a brother to me…. I chose not to forgive because I was so deeply wounded by his choices.
It’s been 12 years since I found out my parents were divorcing, and my dad left, married another woman, and made his own choices…. Naturally I distanced myself… I chose not to forgive because I was so deeply wounded.
There were choices made also by my mother. She did what she felt she needed to heal from her wounds. In turn it had its consequences, and I can’t be the only one- but was left deeply wounded.
In 2009, I thought I fell in love with a stranger, quickly jumped into a toxic relationship. Turn out things were not as they appeared to be…. I chose not to forgive because I was so deeply wounded.
A year later I stayed in another toxic relationship- for a few years. Empty promises, ping longed back and forth…. I chose not to forgive because I was so deeply wounded.
A previous pastor whom I trusted and valued… Upon hearing my need to step away from the worship team to follow my (at the time Fiancé) husband and his lead to another church… He said that I wouldn’t become what I was designed for without that church/platform….. I chose not to forgive because I was deeply wounded.
Years of poor choices, carelessness, recklessness. Drugs, binge drinking, poor self worth, anger, regret, resentment, unforgiveness welled up and my own choice to not forgive myself for purposeful mistakes welled up.
Many of you know the rest of my story. I found a man, who didn’t/won’t deeply wound me – I’m grateful for my husband. I have a relationship with the Lord who has promised to never wound me, instead promises to heal me. I forgave myself. I accepted forgiveness freely given by Jesus’ Blood on the cross. What I didn’t do was keep forgiving those who had deeply wounded me.
Unforgiveness is like a brick that you drag around tied to your ankles. After a while you get used to the heaviness. Heck, you may even forget about it. But the long term ramifications add up. Perhaps you end up with deep wounds around where it’s tied. You may end up with broken bones, a sore back, fatigued body.
The same happens in your spiritual life. If you hang on to something that’s not meant to be held on to… It has consequences. You’re held back. Maybe there’s growth, but you’re not soaring. Maybe there’s freedom but you just not tied down- but still feeling trapped. Maybe you’re angry, and you haven’t figured out WHY until someone asks you about your past.
There’s more freedom when you own your “stuff”. There’s accountability when you air your need and desire to be forgiven and display forgiveness. Also, I’m a pretty firm believer that being transparent is huge. Especially today. We have our perfect little kids, with our perfect little meals, and our spotless perfect homes, and tones little bodies displayed for all to see on Facebook and Instagram.
It’s great to see the good moments. To me, it’s almost better to see the struggle. Cause in the struggle there’s growth. In the struggle there’s healing. In the struggle there is a sense of belonging.
Lord knows I feel like I don’t fit into the “buff mom’s club”, or the “100% Organic, well rounded meals” type club. I belong in the “messy house, dirty hair, some days I win, a lot of days I lose, but Jesus and my hubby still loves me” type club!
So yeah, we all got deep wounds. I just don’t want to be a slave to those wounds anymore.