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My hands… my past…

I thought I had left everything behind when I arrived in the UK at age 30 – a young bride. All I brought along was a small suitcase of clothes, a box of books and some wedding presents. I didn’t know what to expect and I didn’t care. I was starting again with Derek.

Now, after 30 years in the UK, 6 years in Portugal, I can say that we don’t ever leave everything behind. Memories still nip at our heels. The genetic code we inherited. Recently, my hands keep reminding me of someone from the past who used their hands for harm. Their hands and mine look identical. I want to hide mine away.

But then I remember, my ‘inherited’ hands come with MY heart. I can choose to use them for good. I can choose to undo harm. And as I do, I redeem my past.

***

Photo by Tiana: https://www.pexels.com

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Going back…

Just recently I went back to visit a place where I experienced great pain. I didn’t know what to expect, but I certainly didn’t think I would come away amazed. For, I learned that a place has nothing to do with pain – it is the person who caused that pain.

It was such a simple and obvious realization, yet it helped me narrow down my grief. For, grief has a way of taking over life, of putting a dark filter over our eyes, but grief is much more specific than a general sad fog. And I learned this because the place where I had been hurt was now beautiful and loved. It was cared for. A place where people lived in peace.

I am deeply thankful to God for this experience and wanted to share it with you. Maybe you too have found the same…

Photo by Lisa Luminaire on Unsplash

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Those unexpected memories…

We may have done everything properly as we grieved:

  • Gone through the five stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance*.
  • Committed our broken hearts to God and asked him to heal us.
  • Trusted him for our future, that he would help us through.

We moved on… but then something happened to remind us. A conversation. A situation. An emotion. And we grieved yet again.

I have learned to lay each flashback at Jesus’ feet, to sit with him in the night for as long as I need. I have learned to accept his precious promises as my own. “The Lord, the King of Israel, is with you; never again will you fear any harm” (Zephaniah 3:15). We don’t have to be afraid. Jesus is with us. We can get up and live.

*1969, psychiatrist, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Photo by Jon Asato on Unsplash