Reason #974
Scout and I went for a walk when I got home from work this afternoon. I have been looking forward to a walk more than usual. As much as I have loved all of the rain we've gotten, I've definitely felt cooped up. I determined that if it didn't rain after work, I was going for a walk. Sometimes you just need to get outside and get a little sunshine.
The weather was perfect. Had it not been for the fact that I was hungry, I could have walked for hours. As we made our way up one block and down the other, my mind went back to three years ago. Every night in the fall, my mom, Scout, and I would go for a walk. Even on the cold days we'd all bundle up and head out. Our walks were my therapy session, so we'd walk and we'd talk and somehow I always felt better afterwards. They say exercise releases endorphins which makes you happy. I don't know that I felt happy, but I felt better. I'm certain we talked about the same thing every walk, and when I say we, I mean me. Because for the hour that we were gone, I'd spill my guts. My heart was so heavy that I needed to talk to someone just to lighten the load. Of course, my mom couldn't totally relate, per se, but she listened as if she were trying to learn how to relate. She would encourage me and speak truth to me, but more importantly, she would sympathize with me. She didn't have the answers, but she would build me up. And every day I found myself thinking, "Just make it until your walk tonight." I looked forward to those walks with desperation because they were the highlight of my day.
I remember thinking, along the way, "How is the Lord ever going to heal my heart and bring happiness to my life? When I am going to stop feeling so sad and numb all the time? How will my life ever return to normal?" The funny thing about hurting is that eventually you get used to it. You don't even realize it after a while, but things would come up that penetrated through the numbness and I'd be reminded of the ache. I suppose the good thing was that I could still feel, even if it was bad. My heart was still there and hadn't completely shattered or turned to stone. But after awhile I forgot what it felt like to go a whole day without wanting to breakdown and cry. I forgot what it felt like to not have a worry in the world. I forgot what my old normal was, and I couldn't remember if it was better or worse than my new normal. And although God was showing Himself faithful in every possible way, I wondered how I'd be able to move on because I couldn't return to life as I had known it. Somehow I was going to have to learn to move forward in my brokenness into a life I had never planned for. There really wasn't going to be an easy option no matter how things turned out, and I think that is the hardest part of those kind of scenarios.
God heals broken hearts and the way He does it is a phenomenon. There wasn't a particular moment where I thought, "Hey, this is it! Now I am happy and life will be good going forward." There wasn't this great awakening or magical transformation that took place over night so that I woke up feeling like a completely different person. It was a process. A slow, painful, trying, yet divinely orchestrated process. Some days I made bigger strides than others. Some days I could barely hang on. But I'd look up and it would be a month and I'd think, "I've made it a whole month, and I'm now a month farther away from that season." Two months would pass, three months would pass, 6 months would pass and even though they drug out, they passed. Every day, little by little, I'd be one day further away from heartache. And with each day God would send new mercies that would help me hang on for the next. I'd look up and think, "I haven't cried in at least a week. I actually laughed, sincerely laughed, a few times today. I just ate my entire lunch without getting sick to my stomach." And life began to return again. Happiness began to flood my heart. My new state of normalcy wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't near as difficult and hard as I had feared it would be. And here I sit three years later amazed at how God works over time.
The movies make it seem like someone heals your heart. Like this perfect person comes along and makes your heart whole and complete simply because of their presence in your life. But no person can heal your heart. Mankind wasn't made to be heart healers. If anything, we're more prone to be heart breakers. The only one who can heal your heart is the very one who made it. The one who understands it. The one who really, truly sees it. The one who gets its complexity and isn't afraid to get in there in the muck and mess and sort it all out. And if you ask me, the thing God uses the most to heal our hearts is time. Because it takes time. It takes time to hand it over. It takes time to learn to trust again. It takes time to open yourself and become vulnerable to the mending process. It takes time to forgive, to get it all out, to purge, and to be cleansed so that bitterness and anger aren't sewed up in the binding process. It takes time for the pain to subside and for the memories to fade. It takes time to stop believing the lies and start believing the truth. And it takes time to feel again. Yet God is willing to hang in there with us and let time run its course. He isn't rushing you into healing. He isn't hurrying you along so He can be done. He wants it done right, so He takes His time. He lets you weep, He lets you pound your fists in anger, He lets you ask your questions, and He lets you settle down. He waits for you to come to Him and hand it all over, and when you do He begins. Ever so slowly, He mends it. Ever so slowly, He heals it. And as each day passes, more healing is on its way. Give it time. Give Him time. He'll take care of it, don't you worry about that.
#974 - For all that He accomplishes over time.
"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." - Ecclesiastes 3:11
The weather was perfect. Had it not been for the fact that I was hungry, I could have walked for hours. As we made our way up one block and down the other, my mind went back to three years ago. Every night in the fall, my mom, Scout, and I would go for a walk. Even on the cold days we'd all bundle up and head out. Our walks were my therapy session, so we'd walk and we'd talk and somehow I always felt better afterwards. They say exercise releases endorphins which makes you happy. I don't know that I felt happy, but I felt better. I'm certain we talked about the same thing every walk, and when I say we, I mean me. Because for the hour that we were gone, I'd spill my guts. My heart was so heavy that I needed to talk to someone just to lighten the load. Of course, my mom couldn't totally relate, per se, but she listened as if she were trying to learn how to relate. She would encourage me and speak truth to me, but more importantly, she would sympathize with me. She didn't have the answers, but she would build me up. And every day I found myself thinking, "Just make it until your walk tonight." I looked forward to those walks with desperation because they were the highlight of my day.
I remember thinking, along the way, "How is the Lord ever going to heal my heart and bring happiness to my life? When I am going to stop feeling so sad and numb all the time? How will my life ever return to normal?" The funny thing about hurting is that eventually you get used to it. You don't even realize it after a while, but things would come up that penetrated through the numbness and I'd be reminded of the ache. I suppose the good thing was that I could still feel, even if it was bad. My heart was still there and hadn't completely shattered or turned to stone. But after awhile I forgot what it felt like to go a whole day without wanting to breakdown and cry. I forgot what it felt like to not have a worry in the world. I forgot what my old normal was, and I couldn't remember if it was better or worse than my new normal. And although God was showing Himself faithful in every possible way, I wondered how I'd be able to move on because I couldn't return to life as I had known it. Somehow I was going to have to learn to move forward in my brokenness into a life I had never planned for. There really wasn't going to be an easy option no matter how things turned out, and I think that is the hardest part of those kind of scenarios.
God heals broken hearts and the way He does it is a phenomenon. There wasn't a particular moment where I thought, "Hey, this is it! Now I am happy and life will be good going forward." There wasn't this great awakening or magical transformation that took place over night so that I woke up feeling like a completely different person. It was a process. A slow, painful, trying, yet divinely orchestrated process. Some days I made bigger strides than others. Some days I could barely hang on. But I'd look up and it would be a month and I'd think, "I've made it a whole month, and I'm now a month farther away from that season." Two months would pass, three months would pass, 6 months would pass and even though they drug out, they passed. Every day, little by little, I'd be one day further away from heartache. And with each day God would send new mercies that would help me hang on for the next. I'd look up and think, "I haven't cried in at least a week. I actually laughed, sincerely laughed, a few times today. I just ate my entire lunch without getting sick to my stomach." And life began to return again. Happiness began to flood my heart. My new state of normalcy wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't near as difficult and hard as I had feared it would be. And here I sit three years later amazed at how God works over time.
The movies make it seem like someone heals your heart. Like this perfect person comes along and makes your heart whole and complete simply because of their presence in your life. But no person can heal your heart. Mankind wasn't made to be heart healers. If anything, we're more prone to be heart breakers. The only one who can heal your heart is the very one who made it. The one who understands it. The one who really, truly sees it. The one who gets its complexity and isn't afraid to get in there in the muck and mess and sort it all out. And if you ask me, the thing God uses the most to heal our hearts is time. Because it takes time. It takes time to hand it over. It takes time to learn to trust again. It takes time to open yourself and become vulnerable to the mending process. It takes time to forgive, to get it all out, to purge, and to be cleansed so that bitterness and anger aren't sewed up in the binding process. It takes time for the pain to subside and for the memories to fade. It takes time to stop believing the lies and start believing the truth. And it takes time to feel again. Yet God is willing to hang in there with us and let time run its course. He isn't rushing you into healing. He isn't hurrying you along so He can be done. He wants it done right, so He takes His time. He lets you weep, He lets you pound your fists in anger, He lets you ask your questions, and He lets you settle down. He waits for you to come to Him and hand it all over, and when you do He begins. Ever so slowly, He mends it. Ever so slowly, He heals it. And as each day passes, more healing is on its way. Give it time. Give Him time. He'll take care of it, don't you worry about that.
#974 - For all that He accomplishes over time.
"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." - Ecclesiastes 3:11