Finally...

It's days like today, when I'm hit in the gut with a moment of self realization, that I know my purpose and my steps are real, raw, and true. People say that when a moment like this comes along you're never supposed to forget it; I'm bottling it up, storing it in the quiet corner of my heart, and counting this as the biggest day and the biggest victory God has placed before my cracked hands.

As some people who read this blog may know, I've begun my summer and the end of this past semester working with a non- profit organization called Heart Support. It took a lot of emails, interviews, prayers, and logistics to get here, but this job is everything I've ever dreamed. Placed on my radar from a very good friend almost a year and some months ago, Heart Support has been the experience, the community, and the stories that have allowed me to share my story and grow in all that God is doing with each of our lives. I'm continually blown away by the opportunities I've been given. Whether it's what the team shares with each other or, the students and following we hear from daily, it's truly God taking each of us to new heights and new challenges.

This month we're dealing with the aspect of forgiveness. What it means to forgive others, what it means to understand God's forgiveness and our ambitions to be closer to all he is. We've been getting a lot of great stories of how God has been working in their lives and how it is that we can all work together to live a life of ultimate grace. We've gotten questions, discussions, and just an all around community being built on one of the toughest subjects I've ever come to digest.

While I find it hard to sometimes forgive others and live a life of unending love, perhaps the battle I've struggled most with lately is the concept of forgiving myself. Anyone who knows me will know that the largest part of my struggles, the largest part of my testimony, stems from the death of my best friend and my consistent fight with self- injury. Self- injury which my parents have turned a blind eye to since it began just way too early in my teenage years. As people logging onto Heart Support and speaking with us have been struck by the need to forgive others in their lives, I've felt God calling toward me and pulling me into a space where I could begin to forgive myself.

To forgive myself for his death. To forgive myself for the horrendous scars that have faded but, that still exist in the moments and on my heart.

A few weeks ago I wrote out exactly what I'm explaining, sat on my computer, and sent it to my boss. He asked to know what it was that we thinking about or working toward for the month. Needless to say, the story struck discussion. He asked questions, asked why it is that at 13 I could possibly for something that was beyond my control.

Even still, I don't know if I have that answer. I guess I just feel like it should have been me to go instead of him. Mike always had a lot going for himself, and I just was fading as it was. So ,for awhile after I asked my why not? I wondered whether there was something I could have done to help. Like I could have loved him more, like we could have worked harder to get him stronger. Like I could have been a stronger support system.

Jake said: Talk to him. Talk to him and talk to God. Resolve this and understand it because if you're carrying this around, there's more living to do.

So. I let it sit for a few days. I let it rest but, there were things happening here where Mike kept popping into my head or, into conversation. And so, I took it as a second and wrote a letter. I wrote a letter to him explaining all that happened after he died. The struggles, the pain, the loss, and the smeared regret. I wrote it with a heavy weight in my chest attempting to understand that I was doing the right thing. I asked him to forgive me for being so lost. I begged God to forgive me for being so angry. For spending way too much time running.

The next few days resumed as normal.

It wasn't until this past Friday that I honestly felt the truth. I can't really explain or identify it other than peace. Peace and understanding that he's gone. That he's really and truly gone, but that it's not my fault. It was never my fault. There was nothing, and that the pain I've placed on myself, physically and mentally, was nothing. There's nothing more right now than an endless sea of clarity and understanding. It might not seem like much more than words on a page but, for me I've finally begun to let myself off the hook.

Now, I sit outside my home in New Jersey writing this and letting myself go. 8 years since he's passed and 3 and a half years since the last time I've allowed myself to cut, and nothing sweeps over me quite like the feeling of restoration.

After all the anger, the frustration, the questions, and failed attempts at a life in darkness, this an entirely new shade and weight lifted.

I've seen the way that our words and prayers as a team can begin to offer healing to those who bravely write to us, but I've now seen the way that a community can fortify the greatest understanding. More importantly, how wide God's arms are extended in cradling each and every one of us.