I was at the lowest point in my life in 2011.
Dealing with the devastating loss of my granddaughter, my job, my home – the very foundation of my life. Anger, grief, shame, and guilt were my live-in companions. And most of my days were spent catering to them.
But every now and then Hope stopped by for a visit… to remind me that God had not forgotten me and a future free of my companions was possible.
I believe it was Hope that led my younger self to start a blog twenty years after she’d given up believing she could become a published writer.
My first post was titled Move The Stones.
It was my take on Jesus’ command to “Take away the stone,” before he called Lazurus from the tomb.
I’ve revisited the post a few times over the years but it wasn’t until recently that I’ve come to realize the beaten down, desperate woman that I was in 2011 had written the words that would go on to become a guiding force in my life. “Move the Stone.”
When the realization hit me, I wrote my younger self a letter:
“Hey Girl,
I love you more now than I was ever capable of loving you back then.You was dealing with so much. Shame, pain, burdens you didn’t ask for, grief, unprocessed trauma. And I just treated you like you was just a raggedy assed mess who really needed to get her shit together.
I’m so sorry. Sorry for failing you then and so many times since.
Thank you for forgiving me.”
No one was ever harder on me than I was on myself.
Of all the stones we have moved – the barriers to loving and forgiving myself were the hardest.
Yet here we are.
And it feels good.
