My groom is washing dishes and I notice my reusable coffee filter full of grounds. And then I remember the baking carafe that I left in the sink full of soapy water.
I berate myself for not doing everything I should have done.
Stammering I'm sorry, I punish myself with hatred for my forgetful ways.
The one thing he can't stand is when I do this to myself.
Angry he becomes over this. His love cannot understand the beating.
He fights for me to *receive*.
Softly. Gently. Kindly. Accepting.
A wounded little girl I still am.
I'm in a standing meeting with colleagues and see him at my office door.
The cadence of my heart changes and shame waltz right in, dancing clunkety-like with gratitude. Right then I know why he's there.
Mid-sentence with colleagues I shout out a "thank you" to my groom, suddenly remembering what I forgot and he was kind enough to hand deliver--my cell phone left on the charger.
I'm embarrassed at the blurting out of my gratefulness.
After the meeting I rush to call him.
Suddenly thank you meets shame all over again.
He says that he heard my phone go off letting me know of a meeting, and he didn't want me to be late.
Shards of anger cut at my heart.
I want to receive and yet shame is just so heavy.
When does it stop?
And then, thank you that it doesn't stop!
A shy heart I have. Conflicted, hesitant and timid to be loved.
My voice exclaims that I've got myself an amazing husband.
And quickly I correct myself.
God placed the *amazing* inside of this man.
He made him kind and thoughtful.
It is Him who I love when I choose love for him.
I realize I hurt inside. Shame makes me think I should be better.
And yet I know I should just receive grace.
I fight the crave for perfection--even to perfectly receive.
Lately I've come out of the quiet where I've lived for nearly three years and I've begun to voice things that haven't seemed quite right.
All the living I've done to please them has come to a halt.
I'm not well liked because of it, though I'm finally Me.
I've felt my feelings and thoughts affirmed and it feels so good.
Like refreshing water, I feel nurtured and hydrated; clear minded.
The span of living these past three years was necessary.
Though, I want to beat myself up for not saying something sooner.
Still, I ache over longing for different, believing He led me here.
He allows me these feelings.
There's freedom here in receiving grace for them.
Receiving this grace is hard.
It hurts. I wonder if it's okay as I lurk out of the hiding and live more Me.
Again and again He teaches me to receive. Like a mama-pup in a new home, I learn to trust and find comfort in His touch, over and over again.