Last night some ghosts from the past rose up and it felt as if my heart was breaking all over again. I was so sad.
Over a year ago, I remember feeling ready to lay down some of that grief I had been carrying for so long. Grace, time, healing and love had softened the edges of that grief and I was left with a gift. Grief had turned into acceptance, forgiveness and peace. And I realized what a treasure this grief had become. So many lessons learned from that experience. As scary as it was to sink into my grief and find my way through the sadness, I knew that somehow, this grief would always be a part of me.
But last night I wasn't prepared for how quickly those old hurts could resurface. The ache was so familiar and deep that for a moment I wondered if I had indeed experienced any healing over the past years. It felt as if my heart was broken into a million tiny pieces... and then I realized, my heart had broken into a million tiny pieces at one point. The past 3 years have been spent carefully collecting those pieces and mending them back together. And all those little pieces are back together again, clothed in love and bound together with grace - but the whole is still made up of tiny little pieces nonetheless.
I guess healing doesn't mean eradication of the past. It's part of my story and I don't think you can experience a broken heart and emerge unchanged. Those wounds ran really deep, right to the core. They were a part of this transformation, and they've left their mark. And the memory of that sadness remains; it is unforgettable.
But as sad as I was in that moment, I was grateful too. Grateful that my broken heart was still tender and soft. That even after shattering into a million pieces, it was still able to feel the pain of regrets, the sting of sadness, along with the joy of healing, and the promise of new beginnings. Somehow, the tenderness of my heart was not lost in it's brokenness - it wasn't hardened and calloused by those wounds. It's part of the miracle of grace and forgiveness. And I was acutely aware of the beauty in both sorrow and joy.
This heart is restored - it may be made up of tiny pieces, but it's still whole. And as I laid there, even amidst the tears, I had the peace of knowing that the sadness would pass. That as strong as the memories of the hurt were, my heart would also know and feel the strength of the healing salve of love. Those hurts that had resurfaced had been bathed in love and restored in hope. The sadness I was experiencing was just a shadow of what once was.
So we made it through the night to the promise of the following day and my tender broken heart was no worse for the wear. It still emerged whole in it's brokenness.
Over a year ago, I remember feeling ready to lay down some of that grief I had been carrying for so long. Grace, time, healing and love had softened the edges of that grief and I was left with a gift. Grief had turned into acceptance, forgiveness and peace. And I realized what a treasure this grief had become. So many lessons learned from that experience. As scary as it was to sink into my grief and find my way through the sadness, I knew that somehow, this grief would always be a part of me.
I guess healing doesn't mean eradication of the past. It's part of my story and I don't think you can experience a broken heart and emerge unchanged. Those wounds ran really deep, right to the core. They were a part of this transformation, and they've left their mark. And the memory of that sadness remains; it is unforgettable.
But as sad as I was in that moment, I was grateful too. Grateful that my broken heart was still tender and soft. That even after shattering into a million pieces, it was still able to feel the pain of regrets, the sting of sadness, along with the joy of healing, and the promise of new beginnings. Somehow, the tenderness of my heart was not lost in it's brokenness - it wasn't hardened and calloused by those wounds. It's part of the miracle of grace and forgiveness. And I was acutely aware of the beauty in both sorrow and joy.
This heart is restored - it may be made up of tiny pieces, but it's still whole. And as I laid there, even amidst the tears, I had the peace of knowing that the sadness would pass. That as strong as the memories of the hurt were, my heart would also know and feel the strength of the healing salve of love. Those hurts that had resurfaced had been bathed in love and restored in hope. The sadness I was experiencing was just a shadow of what once was.
So we made it through the night to the promise of the following day and my tender broken heart was no worse for the wear. It still emerged whole in it's brokenness.
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| Healing Heart by Sharon Cummings |
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