I hated that child. He was weak. He was sad. He had no control over the abuse he was forced to suffer. He was everything I'm not. And yet he was me.

When I cast him adrift, I did it painfully. I killed him. It wasn't easy and I nearly killed myself in the process. But that parting became my strength. A strength I could feed on. I ate myself and grew strong. I was reborn from the ashes of his weak, pitiful little teenage body.

And yet that meant he made me what I am! Only half a man. And not nearly as strong as I thought I was. I am a man of straw because I've bullied my inner child into silence - because his questions embarrass me. That child is now re-awakening and I have the choice to keep trying to crush him or embrace him. Because what he really needs is a protective arm around him and somebody to tell him it wasn't his fault.

"When we are no longer children, we are already dead"
Konstantin Brancusi

He has nothing to to be ashamed of. He was cast adrift by others until the only person left to abuse him was himself. I have become my own abuser. Now I have to learn to be my own lover. That child deserves my love and understanding. And that is going to be the real test of my strength.

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is an eternal God,
the creator of the whole earth.
He does not get tired or weary;
there is no limit to his wisdom.
He gives strength to those who are tired;
to the ones who lack power, he gives renewed energy.
Even youths get tired and weary;
even strong young men clumsily stumble.
But those who wait for the Lord’s help find renewed strength;
they rise up as if they had eagles’ wings,
they run without getting weary,
they walk without getting tired.
Psalm 40:28-40

Please pray for me.

Conx

Copyright (c) Conway Billington

• Topic: Testimony

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