Stink Bomb

Last week, I was faintly aware my family of origin kept showing up in my dreams. Being Mother's Day week had something to do with it, I am sure. It made me wish it was safe to call my mom. From past experiences, however, I knew it would open up the door for Chaos to walk back into my life, shoving years of layered rot and decay under the door mat while expecting me to ignore the stench.

As the evening of Mother's Day was drawing to a close, I got an email from Chaos. All it did was call me something hateful and nasty. It wasn't intended to make a step toward building bridges, healing relations, or even being respectful. It was no olive branch. The intention was to crush, burn, and shame adding another layer to the mess and affirming, Chaos is not safe.

In the past, Chaos would have been successful with grenade tactics. I would have been devastated and been sucked back in. Now I see the tactics more as stink bombs; the initial impact is shocking and putrid, but it clears away eventually.

So I had a good cry, mourning the continued brokenness, hurtfulness, and hatefulness. Though it's gone on for years, I am grateful my heart has not hardened and succumbed to bitterness and hoping it never does. A season of healing for my family of origin may never be realized, but His healing continues in me. True healing for me will be when I am more broken-hearted for Chaos and less broken-hearted for myself. One step at a time.

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