Alright, here goes nothing. For the past few weeks God's put something on my heart. A realization that one year ago I was in Grenada, and then suddenly, I wasn't.
It's been one year and I haven't touched my journal. I've refused to even glance at those tear stained pages, soaked with emotion and covered in deep descriptive language. I got back from Grenada and I hid everything that happened away, far from anyone, including myself. I told myself I wasn't broken and everything was a bad dream. But those were lies. The truth was that I was broken and the reality of it was something I didn't want to deal with.
But it started this morning while I was sitting by the lake up at RockRidge during our annual fall retreat. The tears just started to flow as I began to process my brokenness.
It boils down to one thing. I've blamed God for all of this and harbored bitterness towards him. I haven't wanted to deal with it because it's just been easier to blame God for mistakes I made. But the truth is that I made poor decisions and I suffered the consequences. I'm not saying Grenada was a poor decision, but some of my motives were poor, some of the ways I dealt with adversary was poor, and my attitude was definitely poor.
Tonight I read through my journal, laughing at parts, crying at others. I couldn't get over how truly profound some of the things I had written were. Some things that I wrote on the first few days made me see how God was preparing me for the challenges ahead. I could see His hand through the whole trip.
There were some serious things I wrote about how I was feeling.
Such as (day four)
"I finally got to video chat with Mom and Dad and I cried my eyes out. It was so good to see them and hear their voices. Mom is always so encouraging to me. She makes me feel like I can do anything. I want to make them proud. Which Mom says is easy because she's already proud of me. I guess maybe I just want to make myself proud of me."
Wow. I read that and teared up. From the very beginning I allowed satan to feed me lies. I remember having the feeling that I needed to prove something. Prove that I was strong enough to do anything. That I was brave. That I was obedient. Where did that idea come from? There can only be one source and it isn't the Lord.
I've realized how strong I really am. These past few years haven't been easy but God has been refining me.
Isn't that how it works? Through the challenges God refines us, shapes us to be the soldier, the conqueror. Today is the day when all the pain I experienced last year in Grenada and the months after, finally makes sense. I was refined by fire, it burnt but it has had lasting effects. I've wasted so much time harboring anger against my God who never deserved it because I refused to ask "why?".
God forgive me. Let's move on.
