The last two years of my life have been hellish, not because of a major traumatic event, but because of me. I did it. I'd like to place the blame on someone or something, but I can't. The common denominator in all my suffering is me.
That isn't to say that nothing trying has occurred. There have been challenges and bad decisions. There have been events and happenings, but the misery that is clinging to my bones making each breath painful is my own doing. Or rather, my undoing. I am, to borrow from Isaiah, undone. My question; is being undone enough?
If you look at various translations of Isaiah 6:1-5, you will see undone translated as lost or ruined. If there could only be an English word that encompassed all three ideas at once, I would use it. Unlike Isaiah, I am not undone, lost or ruined because of a vision of the Almighty. I am worthless because I am clinging to the past.
Paul's letter to the Philippians encouraged them to put the interests of others before their own. That's part of the high calling we have as believers and a lofty goal. It's impossible too. I am so busy working on self-preservation tactics that there is no way for me to actually put others first. I put them first once I am certain it is safe for me to do so. Emotional safety is my prime objective. My emotional safety.
Sure, Paul also encourages his readers by admitting he's not able to do it either. He tells us to forget what lies behind and press on. It's hard to know what to forget. Do I forget the childhood that has left me so battered and bruised? Do I forget the multitude of sins I have committed by putting exercising my self-preservation skills? Once you admit that you are broken, do the shards of your heart reunite? Or are they still weapons you hide deep within, ready in case you need to wield them to keep vulnerability at bay?
Forgetting what lies behind. Pressing on.