I thought I had perfectly buried this place. I was certain I left no memorials or landmarks for recognition or identification. I kept no record of the gradual self-inflicting death that I had imposed upon myself. But God knew and He knew it all.
The self-slaughter had continued for years. I never realized that in the process of hating, resenting and suppressing who I really was, I was also destroying the very person my husband loved and treasured. I had no idea that what I had done was to my own demise. I had no knowledge of the pain I inflicted upon him, nor how I made him undergo the suffering of watching the woman he cherished so much die a slow and ongoing death.
But God began to visit the deep places of my soul. He paced through the corridors of my heart, each time hitting me like a tsunami and destroying everything that was unlike Him in its path. He was searching, finding, pulling, breaking, tearing and clearing out all the debris that had taken root over the years. He touched my broken areas; pieces that were only patched and appeared to be whole and issues I could not face up to on my own. This was unfair and unjust. How could a loving God that said that He loved me permit what had taken place? Why would He allow me to suffer this tragedy? What glory could He get from all of this?
But if I were to be used by Him, this broken vessel would need inner healing and a release from a spirit of rejection and self-hatred that dwelt in the inner chambers of my heart. I had carried this load for years and my deliverance had come; yet it was not coming without a fight.