1. Was it wise for me to examine my past? It’s trendy for Christian to look at our childhood to understand our actions/reactions today. I’ve gone that route myself. I saw a counselor for about a year. He was (and is) very good, and I’d easily recommend him. Together we dug deep and uncovered all kinds of buried crap! Things long forgotten were exposed, and old wounds were re-opened to bleed afresh. I’d go home feeling angry, sad, frustrated, victimized. It was painful, but I thought it would eventually lead to something good. Because that’s what everyone says is supposed to happen.
But here in 2011, I find I regret the exhumation. The wounds are still open, and now they’re festering. I don’t feel as though I’ve moved forward at all. In fact, I’ve used my past hurts as an excuse not to move. It wasn’t a conscious choice (I don’t think). I find a strange comfort in rehearsing the pain. It’s like pushing my thumb into my mouth, or a needle into my vein.
2. Why should I move? As much as I dislike the person I am today, it’s the daunting thought of moving forward that keeps me here. Leaving this person behind would also mean leaving the comfortable house of pain I built. I’m like an agoraphobic! Even though my house of pain only provides the illusion of safety, that seems better than being outside, uncovered. In or out, there will be pain. It’s a choice between familiar pain (comfortable) and unfamiliar pain (unknown). Either way I’m screwed.
Why does life have to have pain? I hate that crap.
3. Should I trust God? This is supposed to be a no-brainer. But it’s hard to believe he cares for me when long stretches of our relationship include me wondering where he is. God’s kind of caring is nothing like human caring. Which is scary, because with humans, it’s pretty obvious if someone cares or doesn’t care. God’s caring sometimes feels like loneliness and rejection. God, why do you do that? I don’t like it.
Yesterday my pastor gave us a simple prayer: God, teach me to think the way you think. I know the first step to leaving the house of pain is to change the way I think. That seems entirely impossible right now. I want to believe God wants better for me. So I’ll pray it and see what happens.