I am still working on purging. And feeling it. My heart is just aching. But I am determined to keep at it, and let myself feel the sadness, hoping that it will give away to a new hope for a more detached, ordered future.
By detached, I mean clear on what I attach myself to. Not stuff, but people. Not papers but ideals. Not food, but sustenance. I feel as if something is working its way out of me, and it is not comfortable.
By more ordered, I mean ordering my affections, attentions and aspirations properly, in the right order, and with the right weight of my emotions and will. This is no small job, and certainly not one in which I can just will myself to succeed.
So, petty as it sounds, as so many of my fellow humans are suffering so greatly, I must embrace the cross. I want to dodge the cross, hide from it, bury it. But no, the true answer is embrace it, and then hope live in truth and freedom.
Remember that open hand I keep talking about? I feel mine closing, trying to clench, to cling. My prayer today will be to keep my hand open, so God can take out the excess, and that He will save me from my fear of the cross.