I apologize.
Untitled from Diane Meyer on Vimeo.
If I haven't scarred you for life, please head over to 2nd Cup of Coffee, where there had darn well be a whole lot of you participating.
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Lord, I believe. Help me to believe.
Not remembered and certainly not focused on. If I talk about when I was a young child, I say the words, but they don't penetrate. That way it won't hurt. I am good at this.
Yes, I have a tendency to pack unpleasant memories away like old garbage and hardly ever ponder them for any significant amount of time. Works for me.
Until the dam bursts, anyway. Or until the lovely aroma from the rotting garbage becomes stench that I just can't live with any longer.
Is this one of those times? I'm not sure. I do know that spending time looking at my early childhood brings up feelings of shame, loneliness, fear and anger. That doesn't sound good and it makes me feel like I should have thrown that garbage out a long time ago.
That would involve forgiveness.Letting go. And believing God. I thought I already did those things.
Maybe I can't really forgive and let go of something that I don't fully acknowledge.
Just as I can't be thankful to God for things I haven't before fully acknowledged.
This week, instead of just being grateful for the rescuing work that was done in my life at age 18, and all the blessings that followed, I began to work at being thankful for the beginning of my life and searching for the ways He was working, even then.
I am believing God for this.
O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up.
You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do.
You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me.
You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!
I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence! If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I go down to the grave, you are there.
If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me, and your strength will support me.
I could ask the darkness to hide me and the light around me to become night— but even in darkness I cannot hide from you. To you the night shines as bright as day.
Darkness and light are the same to you.
You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me! Psalm 139 1-18