I remember exactly where I was: Michigan Road and W. 86th Street in Indianapolis. While stopped at a red light, I had my first positive thought after struggling with depression for many months.
It was a comfort to realize healing can happen.
My husband and I struggled with infertility before we successfully conceived. But, sadly, we buried our first baby instead of holding him on this side of heaven. In the months that followed, I barely left my bed. My heart and spirit ached. And even when trying my hardest, I could not imagine anything positive for our future.
Until, on that winter morning in early 2008, I was able to imagine a life where I was a mom. I could fathom a life where there was hope and happiness again. It was a fleeting thought. One that was there with the red light and then gone as the light turned green, and I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal. My depression did not end that instant; however, it was a start.
And now, 14 years later, that season I thought would never end, feels like a lifetime ago. God is faithful and still uses those years for our good and the benefit of others. He continues to redeem the pain and loss. Showing me over and over again that healing can happen.
And we know that all things work together for good for those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:28
Fast forward to March 2021.
I remember exactly where I was: sitting on my bed about to eat a bowl of late-night ice cream. Yet, before I took my first bite, my husband shared something with me that changed everything. He shared a truth about his past…something he intentionally concealed when we were dating. Eighteen years prior, he shoved it away in the darkness and had long-forgotten it until that March night when the Lord ordained to bring it out into the light.
And at that moment, I remember thinking healing can happen.
However, a few weeks later, the thoughts of healing disappeared behind all the grief, the struggle to forgive, and the loss of trust. I am journeying through something that I never wanted or expected. A trek that, at times, swallows up any hope of healing.
Yet, the Lord!
Perhaps one day I will share more about the vital process of the past year. All the questions asked and challenging conversations we have had. The catastrophic loss and intentional steps toward rebuilding. The mixture of great days and terrible ones. But, currently, I am incredibly tender and careful with the intimate details this process entails.
However, just like at the red light in Indianapolis, there are moments when I am convinced healing can happen!
A few nights ago, the weather was beautiful enough for us all to enjoy the outdoors. While the children played, my husband and I sat on our porch talking. I couldn’t help but think about how the last time we were able to sit outside, I was crying, asking questions, and accusing. This year, however, we were enjoying each other’s company, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. No subject was off-topic, and yet nothing urgently needed our focus. It was friendly and intimate. Casual and deep. In a word: beautiful.
We were at the ball fields for our son’s baseball game the next day. It was the first game of the season, and like our conversation on the patio, the difference was unmistakable. I have vivid memories of going to the games last year, barely able to look at my husband. My mind racing with negative thoughts, and my stomach lurching with our new reality. But this year, I got ready for the game thinking about how my husband is my favorite person in the world. It felt easy to smile at him as he spoke encouraging words to the players.
My spirit felt light with the reality that healing can happen.
In fact, healing is happening.
Last year, a part of me felt as if it had died and was gone forever. And, to some extent, that is true. I won’t be the same person I was before March 2021, just as I am not the same woman now as I was before we buried our baby.
Before we lost our son, I didn’t understand the pain of losing a child. I didn’t sit well with my friends who had miscarried. I didn’t understand grief and loss. Now, I have a better ability to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). My heart naturally goes out to women grieving their babies because of how that pain changed me.
Likewise, I have a heart for women, particularly wounded wives, that I didn’t previously have before last March. Now I know what it is like for one thing to change everything suddenly. And, because I have first-hand experience with the incredible loneliness that accompanies deep grief, I feel passionate about connecting with women who are unaware that the Lord welcomes their lament.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
In fact, next week, I’m starting grad school for a Master’s in Clinical Counseling. It is an honor to come alongside those vulnerable and courageous souls who are hurting, wanting change, or processing trauma. People who are counting on God for healing even when it seems unlikely. The ones who believe that truly nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).
I don’t know if you need to hear the message that healing can happen.
But, thanks to the Lord, it can!
Personally, I think the truth that healing can happen is something that deserves repeating. Over the last year, I often doubted that healing was possible. But, the Lord sweetly gifts me with moments where I get glimpses of the evidence of His healing work. When that happens, I want to declare loudly for you and me: Healing can happen!
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Psalm 147:3
Pain can bring out the worse in us and, sadly, we sometimes choose to live in that space. Alternatively, pain can bring about a beautiful metamorphosis. Perhaps in our pain things might temporarily look worse on the outside, but God is transforming us on the inside. I imagine it is like living in the Saturday of that first Easter weekend. The destruction of Friday has happened, but not yet the resurrection. We experience intense grief and hopelessness during our symbolic Saturday, but we get to know Jesus in more intimate ways that would not be possible without a death that leaves our hearts shattered.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18
Healing can happen. It is happening even when it doesn’t look like it. And the Lord is so kind to bring incredible good out of all that is ugly. Working through this pain has increased my empathy and has taught me so much about the heart of the Father and the compassion of Jesus. The Lord is allowing this season to bring to the surface previous unhealed hurts and insecurities that He also wants to heal. So, while I didn’t ask for the pain, I will benefit from the healing. What a perfect God we serve.
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