Sunday, March 24, 2013

Two Sides to a Story

I started thinking about the old saying, "There are two sides to every story." Even though I believe it to be true, it hasn't applied to me in a very long time until now. Just a group of words tucked back in my mind.

Then I found a friend, one I thought I could trust. She opened up and told me about herself. She shared deep memories and thought we were just alike. I thought maybe God answered a prayer.

But something kept digging deep inside my heart. Something kept telling me there was two sides to this story. The more sharing came, the more judgement followed. The more judgement came, the more pain followed. The more pain came, the more silence followed on my part.

I started questioning whether I was a bad person to feel this way. What did I do to bring this on? Was I all those things this judgement showed in her words? Where did it come from all of a sudden? I heard my mother in every word and could not take the pain coming up from the wounds so deep inside.

So I went to God in prayer and asked Him. It was there the old saying came to mind.

 "There are two sides to every story, Mary."

I listened to who was saying those words to her and how she was hitting me with the same words. I had become the punching bag from someone who was punching her. Then I listened to her pain from an event that had happened in her life. It was her side.

The event was devastating. I couldn't understand how someone could do that to her. But then God said, "There are two sides to every story."

So I listened to the "other side." There I heard the devastation of loss and grief. There had to be another side. Even though I would not be able to know the answer from the other side, I knew it had to be bad for the person to pull away so abruptly.

I came to Wilmore in pieces. So many scars and wounds to heal. The last thing God intended was to put someone in my life who would tear down what He had already built up. Sometimes people walk into our lives for selfish reasons. Sometimes they come in to control, build themselves up, fill their own empty lives. It doesn't matter if they leave hurt behind.

As time passed, I realized this person didn't listen to anything I shared. There was no compassion to my illness, only me defending myself. There was no understanding or wanting to know me, only wanting to have someone listen to her. 

I will be more careful the next time I open my heart to the next person I meet. Emotional upset causes more scars that I don't need. They also cause lupus flares I'd like to avoid.

It is hard for me to let go and give it to God. Always has been. But in this case I think it best to give the other side of the story over to Him. There is also another saying I've learned to apply to my life.

"Consider the source."

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