The Knives We Hold

Sometimes, the sharpest pain we feel is the one we unknowingly inflict. Imagine this: bleeding on someone who once hurt you, but in the same moment, stabbing them back, causing them to bleed too. It’s not an intentional act but an instinctive reaction—a tug-of-war of wounds where the tools are knives, and both hearts are left shredded.

This dynamic often plays out in our closest relationships, doesn’t it? The deeper the love, the sharper the hurt. Why? Because we’re selfish by nature. When pain grips us, our focus narrows to our wounds, our scars, our depths of agony. But if we take a step back, truly observing the patterns of our thinking, we might glimpse a troubling truth: the same grace we ache to receive is often the grace we fail to give.

Think about it. The patience, kindness, or love you long for—hasn’t it been extended to you before? Maybe by the very person you’re now at odds with, or by someone else who poured into your life when you needed it most. Isn’t it time to pay it forward? Not just to anyone, but to the one person you feel you can’t live without.

If they mean that much to you, why keep fighting a battle of pride and pain? Why insist on being right when it’s your relationship that hangs in the balance? A closer look might reveal the flawed logic in your actions. You don’t know the full scope of their story—the pain they carried before you entered their life, the depth of their wounds, or how your actions might deepen their scars.

No, it’s not fair. Extending grace rarely feels fair. But if love is genuine, then it’s worth dropping the knife. Breaking the cycle begins with you. Yes, you. Even if the pain wasn’t your fault, even if it didn’t start with you. Be the first to say, “Let’s stop hurting each other.”  

This is a season where emotions are heightened, where struggles feel heavier than usual. Maybe it’s the collective weight of the world, or maybe it’s something deeply personal. Either way, now is the time to lay down the pride, the blame, the hurt.

Embrace the messiness of each other’s wounds. Sit with the pain instead of striking back. Let love—not anger or fear—be the reason you stay, the reason you choose to heal together. Because in the end, family—whether chosen or otherwise—isn’t about being right. It’s about being there.