Picking Up the Peaces

I know it's been a while since I've posted. I've been thinking about all the buried feelings I have and trying to figure out how to dig them out. One night, I actually wrote this in my journal (I haven't been much of a journal-er): The mighty towers loom around me. The Redwood-thick walls protect me. I feel trapped. Every time I open the gate of the mighty fortress, a siege awaits me. I keep opening the gate and my wounds are multiplying. They start to heal and I open the gate again. The wounds are getting deeper. They start to heal so I open the gate again. The wounds become infected. I close the gate. I need time to recover and heal. I keep the gate closed. There's a gentle knock at the gate. I'm terrified to open it. The knock comes again. Dare I open it once again? I climb to the top of the wall and look down. It is The Physician. It is the Master Healer. It is the Savior. I know He wants to help me. I know He wants to heal ...

Does he see me? For 16 years I've been right in front of him and he hasn't even seen me.  I haven't been hiding.  I've been open to him.  I've been an open book.  Does he know me? I've shown him the funniest pages. I've shown him the ugliest pages. I've shown him the sweetest pages. I've shown him the most vulnerable pages. Does he care about me? I've cared. I've trusted.  I've loved. I've been honest.  He doesn't know me.  In spite of my being right in front of him, In spite of my being an open book,  He doesn't even know who I am. He doesn't see me. I've laughed.  I've cried. I've yelled. I've loved.  Still he hasn't seen me. All those feelings of invisibility have been confirmed.  I wasn't crazy.  I'm not crazy. I'm not too sensitive. He never saw me.  He never knew me. It's hard to believe he ever wanted to s...