Last night as we were climbing into bed, B asked if I wanted to read our devotional. We did and it was about letting go of grudges and forgiving people. This led to a long conversation between us about forgiveness and holding grudges. I mentioned being worried about holding onto grudges with people. What B said in response surprised me.
He told me that I wasn’t holding onto grudges, because I was treating those who’d wronged me with kindness, but that I was holding on to my wounds. I was holding on to the pain and hurt. I won’t lie, I cried and cried. And I let go.
There was a weight that was holding me down. It was chaining my soul and chafing my spirit. It was shadowing all the good and lovely things and tinging them with bitterness and hurt.
It’s gone now. No, not gone. It’s healed over, the scab will probably itch and I know I’ll be tempted to pick it off. But it’s closed over now. There will always be that scar on my soul from the things that have been done, but I will not rub salt in my own wound. I will let it heal and move on – even if on is also away.
There’s this strange peace hanging about me right now. It’s suggesting that my sadness is behind me. Maybe it will return, but for now I am embracing the emptiness where the pain used to be and smiling. The weight has lifted.