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Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Twelve more hours

Twelve hours until it all ends.  The trial.  I'm absolutely petrified.  I have so many what if's going through my mind...

What if I have a complete break down in front of everyone?

What if anger takes hold and I try to attack the man who has made my days alone a living hell?

What if I can't forgive him?

These are just a few of the dozens of questions whirling around in my mind and crashing into each other.  If only I can calm my mind down enough to think logically for a minute...

There is no reason to be afraid.  You saw this man back in January and you were pretty much fine, aside from the quickening beat of your heart and the breathless feeling you got as emotions began to toy with you.  But really, you had been able to see him in a different light.  How is this trial any different?  He's pleaded guilty, there will be no cross-examining, you'll get to make your statement...

Aaaaaaaand that calm moment is over.  I suppose it's my "forgiveness statement" that terrifies me the most.  I know that I'm supposed to be bigger than this and be strong and courageous and a warrior, but sometimes I want to say to heck with it all and curl up in a ball on the floor!

Oh wait.  Already did that.

Last week, my brain was on overload because I knew this trial was coming.  Most nights I couldn't sleep until close to one in the morning, sometimes not until two, because even the sound of my pulse in my ear sounded like someone walking around.  There were a couple of nights I fell asleep with my flashlight in my hand, ready to blind any imaginary intruder that would dare show it's pretend face in my room.  Some days were more stressful than others.  Some days I was fine.  Some days, I would feel so empty, like God had left me.  Now though, I know He was just gone fighting back the demons that were threatening to plague me with worse fears than I was already experiencing.

I'm praying that those days and nights of fear, panic, and anxiety will be over and done with after this trial.  Old news.  Trash.  On the curb.  Killed.  Finished.  Never to be experienced again.

I'm not saying I don't want to be cautious or be completely free of suspicion.  It's good to be on your guard.  However, I don't want to be stricken with fear every time I hear any sort of sound that is out of place.  The creaks from the wind, the drips of the rain, the breathing of my dad in the next room.  Will this trial finally put an end to all of that?

Even though I want to give my entire speech tomorrow to this man, all I need to say is "I forgive you."  "You are forgiven."  But will I have the nerve?  Will I mean it?  Some people have faith in me...why don't I?  I chased these guys out of my house for crying out loud!  Why don't I have faith in the God that gave me the strength to act the way I did?  Why don't I have faith in the God who fights my demons for me when I can't?  He's gotten me this far, why don't I have faith that He will get me through tomorrow?

Twelve more hours...twelve more hours until this hell is over, or the volcano erupts.

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