For the rest of the page, like the rest of the story can be forgotten in the moment the blotch occurred.
I physically had to forget to be able to forge on as a child. I mentally had to remember as an adult to move on and to heal properly. I would not have ever survived either incident if i did not have a knowledge of God.
I was attacked physically and mentally as a child and then again mentally as an adult. Once to forget...many times over until I remembered. ANd then left to myself because I was called a liar.
Oh oh oh...my oh my.
Thank God for He truly exists. I could not even fathom going through this alone. How long will the dot remain? Forever or until eternity starts.
How long will it hurt? So long as my existence is limited by the sorrow of it.
I have a son and daughter and grandchildren, not to mention their spouses. I don't ever want to be limiting grief, but with every day I stand looking at the dot, i lose a day looking at the beautiful sunset glowing on the page...or the sunrise. Or the kitten tipping over the garbage can again...and failing to laugh.
I don't know if I'm a thorn or a release . In the book of Galatians, Paul wrote of a thorn in his flesh that God would not take away. Ever. I think this is a sad rendition of that thorn. I've asked...when is it over? I've asked many times. I don't want to dwell, but the power of pain is so strong. Like a migraine, I want to turn out the lights and sleep in the dark until the pain subsides.
Like the woman who had an issue of blood for twelve years, I want to reach out and touch the hem of His garment. Because it's more than healing. It's hope. It's quiet. It's a mystery. It's a reason to touch the sacred cloth of someone who might understand. Most of all it's a gentle reminder I'm not alone.
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