There are moments when your own brokenness and damage come clearly into light.
Moments when something finally clicks in your head and even though you weren't the only one in the wrong that you were in fact wrong.
Moments when the crushing realization that the motives behind your actions, your words, your anger and your hurt are not from a pure innocent place; but from a place of deep jealousy and insecurity.
I don't know about you. But I hate those moments.
Worse yet, those moments make it so much harder for me to offer grace.
Because I've been seething for a long time. But I've been jealous for even longer.
Jealous of the time spent.
Jealous of the easy, casual laughter that I am not a part of by simple geographic fact.
Jealous of things I don't even know are true, just that the green-eyed monster is telling me they are.
Jealous to the point that I wish bad things, that I wish for failure, and defeat.
I want to cut these parts out of me.
They hurt my heart.
You hurt my heart, but this hurts it too.
I find the fascinating thing is that in discovering my own mistakes, I become more open to offering you grace for yours.