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Give him all the pieces..

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cuterimza
Initiator
Initiator


Joined: 26 Apr 2007
Posts: 1451
Gender: Female
Location: India
PostPosted: Oct 18, 2007   Topic Views : 401   Post subject: Give him all the pieces.. Reply with quote

When I was in ninth grade, a boy I was sure I was in love with started
dating my best friend. Just like that. One day he was walking me to my
locker; and the next day, he was walking my very best friend to her locker.
"We're not going together anymore! he announced, and in the same breath
added, "I'm going with Tammy now."

I didn't know how to "fix it." I didn't know what to think or how to feel.
Should I be mad at him? Angry with my best friend? How should I explain it
to my friends?

I was clear about one thing: I was hurt all over. No one, not even my
friends or brothers or sisters or parents really knew how deeply I was hurt.
I didn't want to go to school. I didn't want to go to soccer practice. I
didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to be alone. I didn't want to talk
with anyone about it---certainly not my parents.

Not that it stopped them from asking. Noting that I was upset at just about
everyone and everything, Mom asked, "Would you like to talk about what's
bothering you?"

"Talking can make it better," Mom reminded me.

"It's just about my stupid best friend. I'll be okay," I said, hoping I
didn't have to explain any more.

She didn't ask again, no doubt assuming that I'd tell her about it when I
was ready. In the meantime, my parents were extra kind and tried to give me
the space I needed; like a couple of times they allowed me to eat dinner in
my room rather than coming to the dinner table.

After about a week or so of my still being tearful, my mother stepped up her
inspection of the issue. "I can see you're suffering over this," she said. I
think we should talk about it!"

"Oh, Mom," I cried. "It hurts too much to talk about it."

"Yes, honey," she soothed, "I can see that you're hurting."
"Why does it hurt so much?" I asked.
"Pain is God's way of saying your heart is broken."
"I don't need God to tell me my heart is broken," I cried. "I just need Him
to fix it"

"Well, my mother counselled tenderly, "better give Him all the pieces. God
can't fix your broken heart if you don't give all the pieces to Him."

I'll always remember those beautiful words: "God can't fix a broken heart,
if you don't give Him all the pieces."
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