{"id":43,"date":"2024-04-10T14:50:51","date_gmt":"2024-04-10T14:50:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/melissagpickens.com\/?page_id=43"},"modified":"2024-04-10T14:50:51","modified_gmt":"2024-04-10T14:50:51","slug":"why-the-pearl","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/melissagpickens.com\/meet-melissa\/why-the-pearl\/","title":{"rendered":"Why The Pearl?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n\t

Why the Pearl?<\/h1>\n

I find solitude and a deeper connection with God out on my upstairs back porch. A noisy, busy highway connector is only yards away, but the tree line between and along both sides stands as a buffer teeming with life. Colorful birds flit by, occasionally perching on the outside deck, while playful squirrels chase through the maze of branches. It is a place I often retreat to when life is heavy, or when I need a dose of beauty to get through the day. A space to breathe.<\/p>\n

It is also a space where I wrestle with God.<\/h2>\n

Something I’ve done a lot of the past few years. My counselor gave me a forgiveness exercise to work through. It is the kind you don’t rush, but approach slowly. I have revisited it many, many times and in different seasons as I work through forgiveness with different persons or groups of people or situations.<\/p>\n

The exercise begins by naming the person(s), what they did, and how it made me feel. Then it gives room to process a series of questions, such as: “Am I holding a grudge or have resentments weighing me down? What pain am I holding onto, however recent or distant? What hurts about that situation or moment(s) with that person?” It addresses important statements such as, “forgiveness does not mean that they automatically are right, or they get to have the same place in our life.”<\/p>\n

Number five on the paper is the one that tripped me up, though. Every. Time. EVERY. TIME. The instruction is to say, “Because I don’t want to carry the weight of this unforgiveness anymore, I am releasing you to God. He knows how to judge completely. I am not in charge of carrying this pain anymore.”<\/p>\n

An earth-shattering revelation rose within me.<\/h2>\n

I had absolutely no clue who I was without pain. Rightly, because I had been carrying it most of my life with some persons. With another, I had carried it over twenty-five years, more than half my life at the time.<\/p>\n

There are many different pains I have been (and still am) walking through with Jesus off and on for years. Facing it with Him became more palatable because He would speak tenderly, expose lies in those painful places, replace them with Truth, and bring His love in tangible ways as I processed.<\/p>\n

But could I trust Him enough to let go of the pain? What would He do with it?<\/h2>\n

To throw it away felt diminishing, as if the pain didn’t matter, because pain was diminished much of my childhood. God would not further impose a wound.<\/p>\n

Someone told me He would turn my pain into something beautiful, from ashes to beauty. While that gave me hope, I still couldn’t let go. Weeks turned to months of wrestling with God over the fifth portion of that forgiveness exercise. Until one day, out on my porch, He reminded me of a few key things other mentors and my counselor had said to me at various points:<\/p>\n