in the beginning

At times I so badly want to blame others for my current state of being. I want to go back a few years and tell them all the ways they handled the situation wrong, all the intricate ways they shattered my heart and what was left of my sense of self.

I struggle between complete apathy and caring so much that I can’t breathe.

Any reminder of who I was is a reminder of what should have been and what is broken now. If I could just ask them where their patience and gentle direction was for the one seeking God, not just for the wanderer, would I have and answer? Would I receive peace? Probably not. Because what was broken remains broken, no one would venture to pick up the pieces. And now that some are here, to put me back together, is it too late? My knack for disappointing is too tangible to let anyone get close. Where were these people when I was worth putting back together and why wasn’t I strong enough, faithful enough, to stay whole?

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