Steps Two and Three
Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Wow, what a concept, yes? To believe that there is such an entity and that such an entity can restore us. What an amazing thing to be able to have! And yet, even with my belief in a higher power, I have struggled with this in ways that you would not believe.
It is not that I do not believe in a higher power, I do. It is not that I do not believe that She can restore me, I do. It is that I often find myself wholly unworthy of such a restoration. I have believed, for most of my life, that I am unworthy of true love, unworthy of redemption.
You see, deep within the confines of my mind stands a child, her knees are scabbed over and her hair is unkempt. She stares out with big brown eyes, eyes that implore you to pick her up and hold her, to comb her hair and wipe the blood from her knees. To protect her from her parents, her grandparents, the bullies, from her own self. She struggles to not cry, because tears are a sign of weakness. She struggles to not scream, because screaming is for sissies. She endures all that she is given, and all that is done to her, because she believes that she is bad and dirty. Because they told her that she was, and that she was unlovable and broken.
She is me, at four. Me at seven. Me at twelve. Me at fourteen. Me giving birth to my first child. Me saying goodbye to my first love. Me through all of the turmoil of my dark life. She has been with me, all of these years, gently tugging on my soul and asking me to carry her home.
And I, in my quest for perfection, have largely ignored her and pretended that she did not exist. Because to acknowledge her is to be her, and to be her is to be unlovable and unworthy of the Goddess’s love.
I have done her such a terrible disservice. I have, for all of my life, neglected to protect the one true person I can protect. I have ignored her and pretended that she did not exist. And in that selfish act, I have ignored the love that is given to me by my higher power, the Good Mother. In ignoring the child, I sentenced the woman to a life of sadness and misery. To a life of disconnection and disbelief.
I relinquish that belief. I have picked up that child, and combed her hair and wiped the blood from her knees. I have given, and will continue to give, all the love and nurturing I can to one who is defenseless and cannot protect herself. And in that, I have come to believe that I can be restored, redeemed, and that I am worthy.
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over the the care of God as we understood God.
Yes, yes, and yes. Mother, I am before you, humbled and ready to accept what you have for me, to stop fighting you, and to believe in you, and myself.
Guide me, teach me, love me. I am ready. Your will be done.