Part 9 of my story

January 29, 2024

 Have mercy on me, O God,
    according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
    blot out my transgressions.

 My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
you, God, will not despise.

Psalm 51:1,17

The story I’ve told you so far might make you feel that everything I did was wonderful. But the truth is, that in the midst of telling you all these things, I was recently greatly humbled, brought low, broken over my recent behavior.

I ask you to please color what I’ve said and what I will say in future parts of my story with a shade of grey. When I tell you about the good things that happened in my life, I may very well be forgetting the bad that was without doubt mixed therein.

It’s hard sometimes to accept the great flaws we as humans have. Hard to recognize them in ourselves. When we do see them, they cause us a lot of shame. We can’t always say that we couldn’t help what we did, although at the time we might have felt quite helpless to avoid the mistakes we made.

Recently, in fear for my own well-being, my anxiety caused someone I love to be forced to forfeit what he needed for his health—a trip he had looked forward to for a long time. And I know it was because I wasn’t trusting God.

I felt so bad for having done this that all I could do to express myself was to go to Psalm 51 to let King David’s words express myself to God.

In the past, I thought a person acting a certain way because of an illness they couldn’t help should be excused and receive understanding—forgiven. But I can see how when we hurt someone and we see what we’ve done we should express remorse for how we hurt them. We should humbly ask for forgiveness and repent, learning from our mistakes.

I’m trying to rectify my mistake to make it possible for my loved one to go on his trip.

It’s strange how I can have the courage to do big things for God, yet fear everyday things like coping with my mental health challenges when my husband tries to take a break from me.

My comfort? A merciful Father who sent his Son to die for my transgressions, though I know there must be many.