This is the truth.
I have Bipolar disorder, I have lived with this for most of life. The childhood abuse I endured did one heck of a number on my brain and chemistry, changing forever what could have probably been a normal mind.
Once I hit adulthood and a manic episode ended in the worst depression I’ve ever experienced, including my first and only hospital stay, I made a decision to get to the bottom of it. I knew I had to make peace with some parts of my past that left me broken. The difficult journey was exhausting and required some intense counseling. The healing process brought to life memories and triggers that were overwhelming and unexpected at times. It’s possible I even broke a little more. By the end, the many pieces shattered by evil throughout the years began to come together, to reassemble in a new way that would never be perfect, would always be scarred, but once again made me whole.
Every once in a while I look within and see a line in my heart that was once separate and isolated, the edges don’t perfectly come together with the other pieces, they never will. There will forever be a small distance I can’t fully close. That is acceptable, because of the peace I found, those edges no longer leave deep cuts along the way. The jagged, sharp, cutting side is forever locked in and unmoving. It lies forever inside but is surrounded by the smooth, perfectly rounded pieces of healing. It cannot cut me anymore. It doesn’t hurt. Those pieces are simply small fragments that make up a whole.
I came to peace with a background story I had no control over. I am forever grateful. I embrace my newly planted unscarred, perfect pieces, and I embrace the reassembled, blemished pieces as well.
Peace was critical to my survival and healing. It is critical for us all. Every person deserves peace.
And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.