After more than 30 years, I was still trying to be my daddy's 'big girl,' but I just couldn't do it anymore. And finally, I cried.My therapist said, "Your box is full.""What box?" I asked, wondering which one of us was the crazy one."You've been stuffing your feelings in an emotional box for years. And now, there is no more room."As it turns out, secrets grow larger in the dark. They don't die. They fester, but instead of rotting and decaying into nothingness, they rot (and stink) and grow so that they become more significant than they were initially.One day, my festered hurts flew out of my eyes, onto my face, down my cheeks, across my belly, onto my lap, and slid into my shoes, causing me to stumble and fall. And when I tried to get up, I realized I was carrying the weight of my world.I slumped and slouched and moaned and groaned and even tried to run, but wherever I went, the burdens went with me.Until finally, I surrendered and let go of the secrets.It was ugly. It stank. It hurt. It was sad. But then I was free. Finally, I could begin to live the life God intended for me - An Abundant Life.
