Friday, May 13, 2011

retribution for a broken heart

I've often thought that getting revenge would somehow make me feel so much better. A sense of relief washing over me as the person who wronged me gets their just desserts. But then again, is it really only a passive aggressive approach to coping? Although I might feel justified, sanctified, and refreshed, does the other person really feel the way I hoped they would? Probably not. I can only hope they feel just as sad, just as hurt, just as mistreated. But more than likely, they won't. It'll just leave me with an empty feeling of dismay and an open-ended wound with maybe only a few grains of salt removed.

So what then is the acceptable alternative? Do they just get away with hurting me? Do they get away unscathed? Do they get away with everything? To me, it seems like the unjust will forever be happy, snappy, and unaffected, while I am left feeling used, abused, and abandoned.

But then a small still voice whispers, "Be still and know that I am God." I'm sorry...what...? Be still? How do I be still when all I want is revenge? Revenge. Retribution. SOMEONE to defend my honor. Someone to defend my broken heart. Yes, Sheerah. Be still. Be still and know that He is God. Not you, HIM. So that is where I am now. Caught in a ping pong game of anger and letting go, resentment and painful acceptance. My head hurts from the game. Back and forth. Tick. Tock. Plop. What good can possibly come from all of this? For right now, at this very moment, all I feel is empty. Empty and so very much alone.


But then I think, there must be a reason. God must have a plan. In fact, I know He does. He promises me that. It's just so hard to remember that when my thoughts race, my heart is in pieces and my life requires a whole, functioning woman. It's a psychological Catch 22. My brain is pulled in so many directions. Anger, pain, joy, frustration, relief...I can't commit to one, I can't remove the other. It's like I'm a drooping piece of salt water taffy. What are my options? How do I get rid of the anger that rages inside? The hurt that swarms my veins with a vengeance? The pain that threatens to overcome every fiber of my being? I give it to Him, but then I take it back. I let go, chase it down again. Will I ever learn? Will I ever heal? Will I ever manage to gather the pieces of my broken heart and find the glue that can permanently mend me?

I slowly open my hand, one finger at a time, realizing that letting go is what I must do. It's the only option I have in front of me. But my tight-fisted grasp on the past, the pain, the's disabling. I'm trying to loosen my grip. I'm trying to unhinge my fingers. I'm trying to move in the right direction. But surprise's the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

1 comment:

  1. I'm your passive-aggressive sister. I understand.