When I write about beginning again, I like to think it is because I am endlessly positive, loyal and determined. That’s what I think most of the time and some of the time it’s actually true.
Beginning again seems like a positive thing- relentless optimism in every day life or during hard times. This means waking each morning with the idea that you can make a difference. Here’s the truth: it is a good thing, as long as your starting point is coming from a place of strength, not desperation.
But what if your starting point is from:
the feeling of never being enough
the persistent need to do more
the idea that there is only one right possible outcome
the desire to control the process and situation
Then, that isn’t so good. That kind of desperation is hard to live with. That place, of never enough, is not from God and it is not truth.
but-with faith- we want beginning again to be from a place of VICTORY
a place of trusting God
with prayer
seeking just the Next Right Thing
trusting God with the outcomes
The starting point does matter and I think we can be so focused on moving forward that we don’t stop and think about where we are starting from. That starting point makes all the difference to how the journey will be. Am I going forward in faith, or fear?
Just something to think about on this quiet Tuesday. How are you beginning again?
This is a timely read for me. Here in my late 30’s I’m finally coming to terms with my childhood abuse. It was hard to label it as abuse. Since as a child you are confronted with your own sinfulness simultaneously with the abuse. It’s confusing. Then as a young adult, you want to cover a multitude of sins, and make excuses for it that “she just didn’t know better.” This Spring we got together as a family and when my parents went to bed my older brother wanted to talk about it. He remembers things I didn’t, but I do remember a lot of the physical and emotional abuse. I think the worst part was the spiritual abuse. My salvation was constantly questioned from a point of anger from my mom. I only remember her talking of the gospel while she was seething. I’m finding parenting and discipline hard at this point. I find I don’t want to bring the discipline around to the gospel because I feel like I’d be manipulating my children in the manner I was. My mom still laughs at things from our childhood as if we were absurd at that time. It demeans the feelings we have about the abuse. There were times I definitely thought about calling social services as a kid. She laughs about yelling for so long without pause to breath that she ran out of breath mid sentence. It wasn’t funny and it still isn’t. I haven’t called her out on her abuse. I’m still not sure how to handle it, but hey, finally it brings me around to the gospel that will not let me go. It holds me fast, thought I got a distorted view of it, I believed and I still believe in our loving risen Savior. I can be forgiven and I can forgive. I’ve been born again, and like you said, it comes from a point of strength.
I’m so glad that you are able to cling to the gospel through this <3