The Truth Hurts, But Love Heals

She was lost in thought. In a grocery store, delightfully distracted by the tasks before her. Oblivious to what’s going on around her, she suddenly became aware of a presence, the kind you feel when you realize you’re being watched. She looked up and into the eyes of the man whose very existence used to bring such joy, peace and assurance.

He began to speak; clumsy small talk, stumbling down the road of an explanation of their last conversation. He told her how much he missed her. He spoke. She listened. At the end of his words, his eyes searched hers for a response. She began to speak words she hadn’t verbalized to anyone but her God and her own heart. She told him she didn’t miss him, because the man she loved didn’t exist; he was what he projected and what she wanted to believe. The woman stated that while his actions were disrespectful and unconscionable, she had to take responsibility for enabling him.

She realized the pain that he inflicted on her and others are a mirror of the turmoil roiling inside of him and in an attempt to quench the desire for unconditional love and acceptance, he sought comfort and validation in money, career accomplishments and women. His need was never-ending, insatiable in its hunger for more, but the only thing that would truly satisfy him is the love of Christ. Her statement was not sanctimonious or condemning, but said from a heart that understood like never before that she needs the same for herself. She was beginning to really get that He is the only one who should have her heart completely and only out of that love could she truly love. Her focus is on loving Jesus more and without abandon and that the man God has for her would be doing the same for himself.

Looking into the man’s stunned eyes, the woman told him she forgave him and this was a lesson she had to learn. In order to understand what true love is, she had to experience what true love is not. The truth hurts, but love heals.

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Seeds for the Journey

Tiny seed in the ground, take your rest; be fed by the fertile ground in which you’ve been

planted. It’s cold now, but you’re insulated and safe from the elements

Wait for spring, for that’s your time. Your tender shoots pierce the earth

With sunlight and rain, unfurl silky green leaves and raise your head towards me

Stand tall as your beauty is appreciated, confirmation that your journey was not in vain

Winds of Change

The winds of change are blowing. Swirling in my soul is a restlessness to not settle for what is comfortable and familiar. The restlessness, I’m well acquainted with; the blessing and at times, curse of a seeker’s soul and maverick’s spirit. But change for the sake of change isn’t always good. Sometimes it’s disastrous unless it’s driven by greater meaning and purpose.

 The gust pushing on my back is ushering me into new territory. Clutching tightly to the Compass of My Soul, which direction should I take?