Picking Up THe Pieces

That seems to be a revolving theme in my life. Sometimes its picking up the pieces of my past life and the pain and struggles I endured early on and sometimes its the present day circumstances that lay shattered at my feet. I wonder "Is it God, is it satan, is it me?" I then ask the age old question "Why God?" but like many who journeyed this path before me silence fills the air as no answer ensues. So what to do?

I have gotten angry with God (no surprise there you know that's happened before and seems to be my default response), angry with my husband (because he is the only thing in my life that resembles God with skin on so hence the anger towards him which is actual anger towards God) and angry with myself. There have been quite a few disappointments lately and hurts that have not healed completely and I just wonder how much more. I want to love God with all my heart, soul and mind but part of me doesn't want to trust. Maybe God is doing this, maybe I am the one person He doesn't actually love.

See this all goes back to my past. I lived in a household where love was given and revoked and demanded. One minute you were told you were loved then the next you were told you stepped out of that love and everything was taken away. There were even times you were threatened that love would be withheld if you did the wrong thing. Love was confusing and hurtful and completely mangled in my life. Unfortunately as much as I know God loves me unconditionally these beliefs are still there and they pop up when I feel God is absent or has abandoned me.

So now I pick up the pieces and start afresh. I have my down moments where I want to stick my head in a hole and my heart in outer space so no one can touch it and then I realize I can't stay there. I brush my self off and pick up the broken pieces of my hopes, dreams and heart. I hand them back to God and you know what He just embraces them and me. Even to the point where like shards of glass in His hands He holds me so close that my broken pieces pierce His hands and draws HIs blood.

Never will He stop holding me. Not even when my pain causes Him pain. I guess that's what started this in the first place. My pain, our pain, the worlds pain is what Jesus was pierced with on the cross as He embraced the Father and the Father embraced the world.