What Hurts the Most...Take 2
I was a little surprised to realize that I already had a blog with this title and it saddens me to know that the hurts are just as strong today as they were when I wrote that first blog in September of 2011 (http://readangiesthoughts.blogspot.com/2011/09/what-hurts-most.html).
Like I mentioned in that blog, many aspects and effects of my childhood abuse at the hands of my grandfather are long gone. Gone is the anger, the bitterness, and I'm happy to report, some of the shame. Gone are the days when the abuse seemed to haunt my every waking thought and I can only credit that to my faith and relationship with the Great Healer, my God. He has brought healing and restoration I never dreamed possible and I am so very thankful for that.
There is a lingering hurt though, one that I fear will last until I see the Lord face to face. We were created to be in relationships and in God's perfect plan, the most loving relationships would be with those we were born into. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents were all meant to be our biggest fans and cheerleaders, those that would love us unconditionally. Thanks to sin, or rather no thanks to sin, those relationships are often the most hurtful and tumultuous. The people God meant to love us the most often hurt us the most instead and I can't imagine how much this grieves Him.
All it takes is a comment or picture on FB, the only means of communication I have with some family members, and I feel as if I've been punched in the gut...an intense pain that comes out of nowhere and leaves me breathless. Images and thoughts come rushing through my mind...
- walking into the courtroom in 2001, when I pressed charges against my grandfather, and seeing two sets of aunts and uncles, as well as my grandma all sitting on the defense side of the courtroom, in support of my grandfather. I look over to the left side of the room, the side of the prosecution, and see absolutely no one. (This does not take into account my dad or former step-mom who would have definitely supported me but I asked not to come because I was afraid of the emotion it would bring). I've always said it's not about choosing sides - my grandfather's or mine - but that was such a defining moment in my life. Their loyalty to him spoke volumes and my heart has never been able to erase that image.
- family members I was so close to as a child who have, seemingly, turned their backs on me. I have reached out to them in hopes of some answers but gotten silence in return. Silence that has been deafening.
- knowing that said family members still visit my grandfather (my grandma died earlier this year) and are in touch with him when, like I mentioned, they refuse to talk to me. I just wish I could understand them or even their line of thinking on that.
- hurtful words from one particular family member, such as "You can't believe anything Angie says, she's a liar."
- the fact that when my grandma died in January, not ONE person from that side of the family called my dad. He didn't even find out about his mom's death from a sibling, he heard it from his son, who heard it from one such sibling. I can't even imagine how much that hurt him.
I ended my previous blog bearing this same title with this poem and it's only fitting I close this post with it too. I wrote it back when I was in the middle of walking through this painful part of my life and yet, it still rings so very true today.
I don’t know how to describe it, this feeling deep inside,
Like I mentioned in that blog, many aspects and effects of my childhood abuse at the hands of my grandfather are long gone. Gone is the anger, the bitterness, and I'm happy to report, some of the shame. Gone are the days when the abuse seemed to haunt my every waking thought and I can only credit that to my faith and relationship with the Great Healer, my God. He has brought healing and restoration I never dreamed possible and I am so very thankful for that.
There is a lingering hurt though, one that I fear will last until I see the Lord face to face. We were created to be in relationships and in God's perfect plan, the most loving relationships would be with those we were born into. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents were all meant to be our biggest fans and cheerleaders, those that would love us unconditionally. Thanks to sin, or rather no thanks to sin, those relationships are often the most hurtful and tumultuous. The people God meant to love us the most often hurt us the most instead and I can't imagine how much this grieves Him.
All it takes is a comment or picture on FB, the only means of communication I have with some family members, and I feel as if I've been punched in the gut...an intense pain that comes out of nowhere and leaves me breathless. Images and thoughts come rushing through my mind...
- walking into the courtroom in 2001, when I pressed charges against my grandfather, and seeing two sets of aunts and uncles, as well as my grandma all sitting on the defense side of the courtroom, in support of my grandfather. I look over to the left side of the room, the side of the prosecution, and see absolutely no one. (This does not take into account my dad or former step-mom who would have definitely supported me but I asked not to come because I was afraid of the emotion it would bring). I've always said it's not about choosing sides - my grandfather's or mine - but that was such a defining moment in my life. Their loyalty to him spoke volumes and my heart has never been able to erase that image.
- family members I was so close to as a child who have, seemingly, turned their backs on me. I have reached out to them in hopes of some answers but gotten silence in return. Silence that has been deafening.
- knowing that said family members still visit my grandfather (my grandma died earlier this year) and are in touch with him when, like I mentioned, they refuse to talk to me. I just wish I could understand them or even their line of thinking on that.
- hurtful words from one particular family member, such as "You can't believe anything Angie says, she's a liar."
- the fact that when my grandma died in January, not ONE person from that side of the family called my dad. He didn't even find out about his mom's death from a sibling, he heard it from his son, who heard it from one such sibling. I can't even imagine how much that hurt him.
I ended my previous blog bearing this same title with this poem and it's only fitting I close this post with it too. I wrote it back when I was in the middle of walking through this painful part of my life and yet, it still rings so very true today.
I don’t know how to describe it, this feeling deep inside,
So I come to you, dear Lord, knowing in you I can confide.
Why do I hurt still hurt so much after all these years?
Why is the pain so deep, I still cry so many tears?
I thought I had overcome it all, I though it was in the past,
I just don’t understand this pain that seems to last.
So much seems to have been in vain, so many efforts lost,
For what I often wonder as I sit and think about the cost.
The cost I’ve had to pay, God, it really is too high,
And I wish I could understand the simple reason why.
They say it was his sin, it was him who did the crime,
So why am I still paying, even after all this time?
Comments
Post a Comment