I have been searching and crying and wondering why the past will not let go of me. I have asked God many times to take it away. He hasn't. I can manage to pack it away like one does out of season clothing. But when the season of rest has passed, out it comes again. Maybe I should give it to charity. But this part of my life is much to dirty, much to painful to want to give away. So I hang on to it season after season, year after year.

Not knowing what to do with the pain, I close it off. My mind tries to delegate it to other parts of me. The pain is so deep and has been there so long that it refuses to budge from it's position. I get glimpses sometimes, little pieces of the picture. But they are so frightening that I shove them back in their neatly packed little boxes.

The slide show that I see when the boxes open slightly involves so much terror and hurt. How could anyone do these things to a little girl. She never hurt anyone, she tried to dodge the blows or get lost in the scenery but he found her. He used her and threw her to the ground to bleed until again she was needed for his service. He took away everything she had, every little trinket all sense of security. Left her with nothing. And the only thing she was good for was to be a slave to his needs.

I pray again for God to take it away. He says He can't. "You have to give it to Me. I will take nothing from you unless you want to give it." Tears start to run down my cheeks as I cry to God. How could you want this garbage, it's filthy, it stinks and it was wrong, all of it was wrong. God replies "I want it because it is part of you -- I want it because I want to heal you -- I want you to be whole -- I want you to be free! But unless you give it willingly to Me, it will stay. I will not take it".

So where does that leave me? How can I give God something I can not remember? How can I let go of something that is so woven into me that when there is any attempt to pull it away, I am torn apart and the pain is unbearable.

I sit in the dark, not able sleep nor to stay awake. My tears have stained the pillow my head lays on. I hide my sobs so no one wakes to find my weakness. "I know! -- I remember! -- I was there!" God's voice penetrates the darkness. "Give it all to me, my daughter. Trust Me." "I held you then, I will hold you now."

Quiet in the midst of a storm; peace in spite of agony, that is what being held by God feels like. He is bigger than a whole lifetime of strife and pain.

The journey continues. The one that is taking me from a very frightened and hurt little girl, to a woman who trusts only God to lead her way through this evil filled, devil run world. That may sound cynical but it's true. The only true light that shines in this world is God's truth. My prayer is that my trust in Him will become so complete and my faith will be so strong that my mind will go directly to Him when the arrows start to fly and I will no longer have to cry alone in the dark.

by Mammabee
© 2006