I hope I don't piss off H with today's post. It just spilled out from an ever-growing place of compassion for such a complicated sitch. H described it like when you vacuum, and go to clean out the cannister - all the dirt and strings and lint are all jumbled together in a mess than can't be untangled. That's how he sees me, as part of the tangle.
He said last night: I wish it were cut and dried. That I did what I did, and you weren't part of the people who hurt me.
But I am. And I don't know if he can 'untangle' me. Neither does he.
I told him: I have my hand extended. Only you can decide whether to take it.
So, how am I? Growing.
Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Is 43:18-19
If it seems slow in coming, wait. It's on its way. It will come right on time. Hab 2:3
