I have seen before where I have made my pain my god. It's made all my decisions for me. It's voice has been the one that I have listened to, the one that I have made a part of my life and that I have deferred to time and again. I thought that I was past that. I thought I was in a place where the pain from my past wasn't what I worshipped. And yet writing tonight I'm realizing oh no, when it comes to looking at forgiveness, my pain screams louder than any other voice, inside or out.
The truth then here, the truth is that my pain is important. It isn't to be ignored. It exists because injustice was done. It screams because horror was inflicted on my body and my soul. It is good that my pain exists. Without it, I would be numb, distant, cut off from the world around me. I would be back to living my life as a zombie and those days (please God) are behind me for good.
So when God says to forgive those who have hurt me, He really does mean it. I don't know how to get there. There is nothing, absolutely nothing logical about it. I've gotten to a place where I no longer actively plan and fantasize about revenge. I look at Jesus, at His pain and His pain didn't get to make His decisions. I'm learning that with fear. My fear doesn't make my choices for me. And I'm allowing my pain to make choices. Not all of my choices, but some of them.
I realized, I still don't trust God that He will deal appropriately with those who abused me for so long and those who turned a blind eye to what was happening. I believe He's redeeming me and my pain - yet I can't seem to trust that He's going to give those people exactly what they are due. He has extended so much mercy to me and I can't help my skepticism that He would gladly extend that same mercy to those who harmed me.