Overcoming bitternes

 I live in a family of bullies...

It started with my mom when I was little; I was never good enough, smart enough, quick enough, nice enough, or capable enough. As I grew up, I believed her--all of her lies and hate and insults. I was the black sheep, the bad daughter, the difficult one, the "you will never amount to anything" one. I still remember this framed saying hanging our wall, called "Children Learn what they Live." It was as if my mom was trying to prove every word of the first half of that...my sisters were prettier, more intelligent, better behaved, and better daughters. I learned to avoid and escape confrontation at all cost, and to never look her, or anyone like her, in the eye. I learned to lie to protect myself, and to guard that kernel of self deep inside me by building walls around it. I moved away, but the shame, the torment, and the derision followed me. Growing up with that negativity affects children in so many ways, and that negativity threatens to follow us all into adulthood, but I was tired of being a victim, sick of being bullied, fed up with being a slave to my insecurities, and weary of the bitterness of it all.  

I have struggled to overcome these circumstances for the past 40 plus years, but every time I thought I had it conquered, something would happen to bring it all back up again. The bile and bitterness and resentment would bubble up, leaving me with the proverbial sour taste in my mouth. I would shove it back down, or try to placate it with something sweet, or bland, or numbing, but it was only a matter of time before that sour taste would surface yet again. And, like acid reflux, it was damaging me more and more, every time--no Prilosec, no Nexium, no Mylanta would help me. Ignoring it didn't work, and feeding it made it worse.  

So I began to pray, to talk to Christian counselors and friends, to immerse myself in God's Word. I called out that bitterness within me, pulled at the long, sinewy branches entwined around my spirit and my heart, tugged at the deep, thick roots embedded in my soul. With  each piece, each tiny sliver I pulled out, I felt lighter, more at peace, less angry. Situations and people that previously would make me cry, or sad, or even shake with uncontrollable rage, now bounce off me like water off a duck's back. Oh sure, there are still times when I feel that bitterness welling up in me, an almost irrepressible urge to lash out, to hate, to feel sorry for myself.  Especially lately, with all that we are going through with my mom and my sisters, things I cannot even begin to comprehend, let alone explain to someone, the desire for validation and for them to believe me, if not love me, is so strong it takes my breath away.  

But thankfully, I come to my senses...and give it BACK to God. I realize He is Lord, He is worthy, He is in control, He loves me, He comforts me, and He is sanctifying me. It is HIS approval I desperately need, HIS love I so hungrily yearn for.  And that love can never grow, let alone flourish, in a garden where the tree of bitterness lives.

So I get out the tweezers and pick those tiny, little splinters of resentment and anger out of my heart. Even as my sisters slander me on FaceBook and with other family members, and tell lies to my mother, and believe the lies she tells them.  Ouch!  That was a deep one!

I no longer am afraid of the bullies in my family--I don't even hate them. I pity them, I am sad for them, and I pray for them. For now, though, I no longer talk to them--their bitterness is too potent, too pervasive to be exposed to, for fear it would poison my soul. 

Most of all, I forgive them. 

Considering what Jesus suffered on the cross for me, it seems only right.