Today, I was struck by that peculiar longing that comes for things lost, that heart-aching look back at things that were and are no longer.
So, what do we we do when these feelings come? Do we shake the thoughts from our minds and keep moving, barreling through the memories and the moments and hoping that the feeling in our heart will subside?
Today, I just couldn’t.
I couldn’t keep barreling through. I couldn’t keep pretending like huge chunks of my life didn’t happen. I wish I could. I wish I could just ignore the wounds I received and have them magically heal themselves. But, like with skinned knees, healing takes attention. It takes cleaning, antiseptic ointment, and a band-aid.
So, today, I did something new: I cried for the lost things.
I let myself feel sad, without condemnation and without slapping a trite “spiritual” solution to it. Because, let’s be honest, sometimes we hurt, and we just need permission to really feel it.
Then, I carried my heart to the Father and showed Him all the cuts, bruises, and scars. I pointed out moments and memories with explanations like: “She did this.” “She said that.” “We don’t even talk anymore.” “They may have never really loved me at all.”
And, I cried some more. But, in the midst of all of this, a song began to play on the radio. Its lyrics flowed deep down into my wounded heart, “Nothing is wasted. You work all things for good.”
Coincidence? I don’t believe in them. I do, however, believe in a God who loves me enough to hear me when I call out and respond to me in a way that only He can: perfectly timed and unbelievably gentle.
The wounds weren’t a waste. He was with me the moment each one happened.
My good was what He had in mind all along. I just need to wait and watch because He only makes beautiful things.
Healing takes attention, but it also simply takes time.
That’s where I am at on the journey…