How this simple little word can so confound me at times.
My Momma wouldn’t let me love her, she would say, “Don’t you dare to think I care or that you are allowed. who do you think you are that anyone would want you or your love?”
My Papa wouldn’t let me alone, my older brother wouldn’t let it be.
While others, let it happen.
Let, let, letting.
I said something to someone yesterday that sat with me through out the day and night, “Thank you for letting me love you.” It doesn’t seem right in some way to say it that way, even as it makes perfect sense to my heart.
Love isn’t about letting or not letting, it is about being and not being. Being there right, not being there wrong. It is the actions visited upon us.. or not..
It is the nature of God lived out to all, of kindness and gentleness, words pondered and spoken gently even in correction.
My small abused me to wonder why she would let me love her while the healing part of me dares to grasp at her response, “It’s easy.”
Me, Tammy, easy to love..
Loved not of Father, Mother, Brother or Husband. My love given, so fully, rebuked.
Now, here, this women of God, along with so many others past and present on my healing journey, love me.
Be a part of their lives,
Welcome my presence,
Help me, see me, hear me.
I have nothing to let happen
I needs must let, letting, go
For in the end, it is God Who allows all things to be
even for me
so i let go… and… let Him