Hands crossed in prayer

Male hands crossed for prayer in dark

This is an article I came across that is so full of truth for healing. How oft I went to my church in the wee hours of the morning to pray, throw myself upon the altar, before my Lord. Oft to simply weep in the beginning, for I could do no more. There were no words for the horrors awakening within my memory. No sense to the flashbacks hounding me, nothing I felt I could do to help myself.

That was the key, I had to realize, that I couldn’t help myself. I needed my Savior, I needed to do more that plead with Him to take it away, to make me all alright.

My morning ritual to become more than my pleading as I faced the dark and pain of the abuse memories draped in prayer, reading the Word and journaling. Sharing with my pastor and friend, ones who I new I was safe with.

Almost every morning for three years found me here. And the road didn’t end there, the healing is still a work in progress. Still requires me to stay active, be involved in my progress. Stay true to me.

Such is all of life, really. Eating and sleeping, working and friendship, the day to day doings of existence.

Life is not passive, so why do we oft thank healing is?Because it is an uphill journey. But, remember once you reach the top the view is amazing.

I know, for I stand atop my Mountain of God’s healing even now.

Won’t you join me?


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