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At some point in your story, a character says "You're better than this..."

She was desperate to be good. An A- was a disappointment, a harsh word's echoes didn't quit. Her standards were impossible, but she met them, and the times she didn't were deep disappointments. Success was survival. Approval was survival. Whose approval? God's? Her parents? Her church's? Despite living every moment subservient to it, they never quite gave it. Perhaps God did, but how could she have known? And so she did two things. She found someone who did accept her. He wasn't burdened with religious requirement, and his acceptance was a relief, even if she failed to see the danger in the flip side of the coin, of lawlessness. Next, she went in search of God. Because despite the convoluted image given her, she saw goodness, and wanted sense. She found truth, and she found God. And found the whole point of this Jesus they told her about was that she didn't have to jump through their hoops, recite their formulas, look just so, or behave just so. She could stop berating herself. You're better than this, do better, be good, be perfect...all faded. She locked the door, stepped into a field of possibility, running her fingers through its grasses, plucked the purple flower, and walked toward grace.

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Looking for the T[ea] said…
I love seeing the different ways we approach the same prompt! I hear your journey.
December 14, 2023 at 1:36 PM
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