I thought I was over it until I saw her. The memory of the offense filled me with rushing waves of rage and indignation. The eyes of my heart beamed darts toward her. I was so overpowered by these emotions I forgot where I was. Oh yeah, church. I’m supposed to be good here. Yet, I could not put on the bogus smile and pretend. I was hurt. And it was quickly turning into a feverish anger towards this woman and every person in close proximity of her. I took a deep breath trying to shake it off. I looked at her again. She was worshiping our Lord. My heart dropped. She had freedom—and I did not. This made me feel even more miserable. I couldn’t deny the truth.  I was intentionally choosing to fuel my fury.  I was fooling myself thinking I was punishing her only to realize I was the one suffering the consequences. Lord, how do I get over this?
Come into My presence.
It was an invitation to enter His presence through worship. I took one more glance at her, now jealous that she was absorbed in the Lord completely unaware of the trials and troubles in her own world.
Lord, the very freedom I desire in this moment is being displayed by the one I won’t forgive. This is hard. How do I move on from this? How do I let go?
Come to Me.
I exhaled deeply. A stubborn spirit coupled with shame for my immaturity weighed heavy on my soul. I closed my eyes.  I knew His agenda–it was to completely eradicate my own. Even as my heart longed for freedom, I wrestled to enter into His presence. My grip was tight on validation. Before I knew it the music faded. The moment was gone. My heart agonized. I did not yield.
Refusing to worship the Lord keeps the offense alive within me. I am at risk of this spiritual tumor spreading to every part of my life. Will I choose to prolong this self-induced ailment? Or will I consent to God to cure my soul with His gentle healing balm? History tells me God will wait for me as I choose. My record proves I will ultimately relent. And when I do my gracious God will do as He always has…
Love me. Heal me. Free me.
I want that. Don’t you?