Never Thought I'd Use Facebook for This...

Four months ago, I was on facebook, staring at a blinking cursor with fingers poised. I was about to apologize to someone I hadn't seen in six years.

My thoughts were nervous, skittish of the message I was about to write. 

She won't even remember this. It was so long ago! She'll think I'm weird for dredging up the past. Worse, it might make her feel bad, maybe even create wounds where none existed. 

But I couldn't shake the conviction to make things right.

I'd been sitting with God, venting to him about someone who frustrated me. Eventually, the venting had given way to softness, me confessing the prickles in my own heart that were bristling in frustration. (Isn't it cool how that works?) 

Suddenly, in the clarity of that softness, I saw myself six years ago. There I was, frustrating someone with my own immaturity. I sat still in the flash of realization: the flaws in Past Cherise were the same that made me bristle with irritation now. 

Takes one to know one. 

So there I was, typing an apology halfway around the world. 

"...I know it has been many years, but would you forgive my arrogance from that time?..."

Her response came within five hours, full of forgetful grace and forgiveness. My heart basked in the glow of her words from my facebook screen. I felt light.

Then, two weeks ago, a conversation jogged another memory of another hurt both received and given. This time it was from even further in the past, a time before puberty, braces or the end of fifth grade. Really, God? 

Obediently, I tapped out another facebook message. I received another surprised, grace-filled reply less than a day later. The sweetness of the exchange made me wish I had sent it sooner, felt the freedom years before. But until that week, I hadn't remembered.

In our apartment, there are certain little piles that have always been there--part of the decor. Technically, they're clutter, but they no longer register as mess in my brain. 

In my heart, it's the same. There are certain character issues and wounds that feel like part of the landscape--part of me. Invisible until my Healer says "See that?"--then it's suddenly there, conspicuous. 

I am so thankful that He is gentle, showing me the piles one by one.