sometimes i feel owed a making right. my heart hardens and fills with bitterness. it seeps in from every direction.
you shouldn’t have
i want to change the score. not just for my win, but sometimes i want to hand out loss. to take away or take back because i feel cut into pieces and maybe hurting back will be band aids.
or i want an even-ing. a good for you but not too far ahead of me. not til wrong is spelled right. the sharpness of my shallow nicks my conscience but i am still hard. still against forgiving.
anger is this grenade and my finger is loose on the clip. my flesh overrides spirit and i want to blow up the bridge between me and letting go.
the other side seems too far and not worth the setting down of this weight that….
falsely feels like strength. right. just.
god reaches in with softening. i slap at his hands with don’t-make-me-i’m-not-ready-i-don’t-want-to.
he keeps pressing in and the light starts to come through cracks in my hard. and i remember the soft of letting go. the free of erasing the numbers.
let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as god in christ also has forgiven you.
ephesians 4. 31-32 (NASB)