I had an attack of conscience through a series of awkward and necessary events in which I was only an observer. But to hear and to reflect on this situation, this situation that seems to eclipse the other parts of my life... I haven't dealt with it. I haven't dealt with underlying causes and the rippling effects. I simply try to pick up the pieces and move on. But they remain just that--pieces. There is no resolution, no change of heart, no laying to rest.
It's just me. I'm just trying to do the best I can... alone.
I need to talk to the bishop. What am I afraid of? The awkwardness of it, the pain of shedding light on it... I think it's the pride. It's admitting that I am significantly flawed, more than people around me think. It's the fear of having them think differently about me.
The sincere, fervent prayers happen sporadically... I don't blame Him for being slow to hear my cry, if that's what it is, or maybe I'm just getting the answers that I'm afraid of.
In the end, I suppose this means I'm not dead inside, not numb to the weight and sting of this problem. So I talk to him, I guess. I do something that I haven't been able to do up to this point. I do it in faith, in hope of a better future, of taking these pieces and making a whole.
Right now, I feel kind of like my life is one of those things that you find at a garage sale--a shadow of what it used to be.
But no more pitying myself. I know what I have to do, I know that this is an important starting point for me and that I have the opportunity to experience the same feelings I felt before if I do the things that I know are necessary... If I take that step into the dark, right? We've already talked about that.
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