The wound ripped open.

September 10, 2011 from my journal:

I drove past that bar tonight and it was too sharp a turn for my wound.  It ripped right open. 

The images of them together, dancing holding hands, her in his lap, them kissing, and it ripped my wound open. 

But You, Jesus, are still carrying me through this war.  You are not growing weary carrying me in Your arms, You are not growing weary of my weight.  And when I ask You for comfort, You give it to me.  Thank You for carrying me, the wounded soldier.  You are my Hero.  Be my salve.  Let Your Word and Your truth be my healing balm.  

Restore first and most importantly C and I’s marriage to You, as we are Your Brides.  Then, please, restore C and I’s marriage to one another.  And for Your glory.  I don’t want it for the praise of man.  I don’t want to hear how brave I am.  I don’t need or deserve the praise for having my heart be where it is.  

You do.  

You deserve the praise because I know, I cannot forgive and heal and grow on my own.  Only you can restore.  Only You can rebuild.  Let me not forget Isaiah 42:9.  Help me to not become bogged down with the "what if’s", with the images of C's betrayal. 

Make me like You.  You don’t see our sin.  You remember it no more.  Help me to remember C’s sin no more.  New things, Jesus, new things now I declare with You.