Starting Over
Saturday, December 10, 2011
It's been a while. I guess part of my hesitation to write again is borne of my fear of being misinterpreted. I do not even know how to begin again.
Maybe I should simply tell my story as I remember it.
I was 21 when I had my first child. I was very young, scared and most of all unable to care for myself, much less my own baby. I was forced to grow up and think of another person besides myself. A year and a half later, I was holding another baby, praying to God to take me out of the dark I was in. I was so afraid of the dark then. I remember I prayed for night to end because I know what lies in the darkness.
Years have passed, I barely remember the details. I can recall some sort of confusion and many times of depression and loneliness but I hardly remember how I really felt then. I only know it was difficult and it was only with God's grace that I survived.
How my story ends will depend upon how I want my life to be, what path I would choose and what direction I would take. My children are grown and have their own lives to live now. I feel I have become distant and unable to give wholeheartedly as I used to. I guess pain has a way of trying to protect oneself from more pain. I know building walls around me not only protects me from myself but prevents others from reaching me. Maybe in time, I will again be able to open myself completely, to love as I am loved by God.
Maybe I should simply tell my story as I remember it.
I was 21 when I had my first child. I was very young, scared and most of all unable to care for myself, much less my own baby. I was forced to grow up and think of another person besides myself. A year and a half later, I was holding another baby, praying to God to take me out of the dark I was in. I was so afraid of the dark then. I remember I prayed for night to end because I know what lies in the darkness.
Years have passed, I barely remember the details. I can recall some sort of confusion and many times of depression and loneliness but I hardly remember how I really felt then. I only know it was difficult and it was only with God's grace that I survived.
How my story ends will depend upon how I want my life to be, what path I would choose and what direction I would take. My children are grown and have their own lives to live now. I feel I have become distant and unable to give wholeheartedly as I used to. I guess pain has a way of trying to protect oneself from more pain. I know building walls around me not only protects me from myself but prevents others from reaching me. Maybe in time, I will again be able to open myself completely, to love as I am loved by God.