A Wounded Heart, Part 5

July 20, 2005

(Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 or Part 4 here.)

OK, this story is getting long—not what I intended at the beginning. I’m going to wrap this up because I was reminded the other day that I don’t like writing. Why I started a blog, I have no idea.

Also, if you’ve read 61 Random Things About Me, you’ll know that I’m good at starting things but not good at finishing them. My friend calls this the “Project Poop-Out.”

(You can feel free to post a comment with any remaining, burning questions about the story, if necessary.)

So, I was at the graveside of my brother and I bawled for a very, very long time. I guess my therapist was right—I had “family of origin” issues.

The experience at the cemetery was certainly a turning point. It’s when I started to see how the events of my brother’s death and the resulting belief that I was bad, were intricately woven into the rest of my life.

Therapy, while excruciatingly painful and outrageously frustrating, was one of the best things I’ve ever done. It’s amazing how much got worked out through the course of it. God showed up. (I still had to work though.)

I had gone in, you’ll remember, because I was obsessed with Brian. Well, I don’t think therapy helped me get un-obsessed (if that’s a word) but somehow it didn’t matter. Besides, I decided to deal with my obsession another way—I moved to Israel. That took care of it.

Anyway, my reason for posting this story in the first place was…geez, it was so long ago, I can’t even remember.

Suffice it to say, my heart was wounded, but God redeemed.

The end.

Category: Deep Thoughts

Comments

Leave a Reply