Growing up, I learned God loved me. A whole lot. I was special, gifted, and He had a plan for my life.
Growing up, I learned that my family loved me. A whole lot. I was special, talented, and they had high hopes for me.
But…except…well, you see…there’s this little thing.
I could make God and my family love me more.
I just needed to try harder. I had to fit into the mysterious shaped hole in the human atmosphere that had been predetermined for me and left for me to struggle to discover and conform to. If I said the right things, did the right things, dressed in the right way, joined with the right people, claimed the right experiences, and avoided all the “wrongs” of those I would be loved more.
These days, I’m finding great freedom by relenquishing my hold on the “but.” I’m living in a freedom of just being me.
Well, at least to a point.
With God, nothing is hidden. I believe that God knows all about me, and nothing that He knows could possibly make Him love me any less. Period. Here, the “but” is nonexistent. No need to carry it.
With my family, many know all the good, bad, and ugly. And I believe they love me unconditionally in spite of all that. Others of my family, if they were to know all the bad and ugly stuff, would still love me, but that love would be strained and its expression forced. Here, the “but” is always in play. It is a constant.
I probably won’t ever be able to fully move past the “but” in this life. But, I believe, at the dawning of the next it will have faded into obscurity.