The last few months of life have been rather dramatic. Something that I’m prideful to believe I try to stay away from. But an emotional heart like mine does have its flaring. My heart has allergies; you could say, gets congestion and has to stay at home sick. It was crippling in my younger years. I have a distinct memory….
Sitting in the upstairs of our duplex, my back crouched over my knees, the sun shining in through the window-paned door that lead to the porch. I remember the light being beautiful and I was upset. It didn’t match my mood. A friend had just told me I wasn’t allowed to be her friend until tomorrow. I was damaged deeply. Mother soothed, but tears still created rivers down my dry knees.
Tears everywhere, it’s a wonder we didn’t get water damage in the house.
God has been faithful to teach me more differentiation of my emotions over the years. Allowing empathy its place, but not allowing it to take over my week. But it still seems I attract the drama. Is life really a stage? Or just my life? Feeling often I’m doing something wrong.
I get this is lie. But I said it anyway, so what?