Box: Prt 2

N.B. continued from Part 1 ...

I sat alone in the chapel for a long time after the evening worship finished, reasoning desperately with God to take away the darkness that I felt inside. We sat in the worshipful silence for a long time together, and finally, I realised that I needed to write the feelings as they came to me. As I started writing, a song started playing that goes like this:

"What a friend I've found, closer than a brother
I have felt your touch, more intimate than lovers
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, friend forever

What a hope I've found, more faithful than a mother
It would break my heart, to ever lose each other
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, friend forever."

And as it played, I began to cry. Not bucket loads, but a gentle flow of tears. And that's when I knew it had begun. It was the first time I had cried in about four and a half months, and I was so relieved. As I let the tears fall, I began to write, and write: all those things that felt as raw and as heartbreaking as on the day they happened. For over an hour, I sat with God and I poured my heart out onto paper. I picked at every memory, and ripped it from my box. And I ended up with about 9 pages worth of feelings and emotions and memories that I hadn't really thought about in a long long time.

Over the next few days, I typed up and added to what I had written, and I found that the more I wrote, the better I felt. It was, one of the hardest things I have probably ever had to write. But it was also completely necessary and useful. There was no way that I could have gone on much longer with those things inside of me, because they held me back so much from being the person that God wants me to be. There was far too much of Ami-then trying to dictate how the Ami-now behaved. And it just wasn't working.

Coming back to Avenue, I shared the stuff I wrote with Phil and Rachel. And for once in my life, for those moments afterwards when they talked to me, I didn't feel like I was holding anything back. I could look them in the eye, and I could smile, without feeling ashamed or guilty or unworthy. It was amazing, and I want more of that. I don't want to have a past that I am ashamed of. Because I've realised that everything that happened back then, it made me who I was today. Not in the bad way, but in the sense that I can be strong, because I have endured. I can be sure, because I have been restored. I can be beautiful, because I am shining with the light of God's glory.

No more boxes.