Sifting through the rubble of trauma can produce a mountain of confusing emotions. As you dig through the pain, complicated feelings can rise to the surface. The gravity of these emotions can then pull you into the crevice of grief; a trench so deep that you begin to question what it is you are searching for as you become buried under everything you feel.
Sifting through the pain of trauma is a chaotic emotional process. It is as if you feel everything and nothing all at once as the chaotic chasm of what exists in the present collides with remnants of the past. As reality around you crumbles, you begin to sift through the devestation, searching for answers. You grow weary and tired in the search, and reach a point of surrender.
As you dig through the memories of grief, trying to control the emotions can feel like you are sifting through sand. As you surrender and let go of what you can’t control, God reveals one truth at a time…the treasure hidden in the process. The sifting was never meant to discover the answers, but to find healing.
Trauma…the way to move on…is to sift through.
“I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name.” Isaiah 45:3 NIV
It can be extremely rewarding to give freely, help others and show up for them in a time of need. Acts of kindness can include the dedication to pray, make a meal, drop off groceries, pick up kids, help with yard work, give of your time, write a note, send encouragement, drop off a gift; so much beauty exists in the offering of whatever is needed. The giving side of a relationship can encourage others to receive the blessings through love.
Why is the other side of help so difficult?
There is a humble process involved in being on the other side of help. Receiving help requires the faith and hope that someone else will not only hear and acknowledge your need, but also be willing to meet it. The hesitancy to express that you have a need can oppress the vulnerability of asking and receiving; silencing the basic fundamental need for love. There is an intense pain felt in the human spirit if the need for love goes unmet. It is a pain that reinforces the thought of feeling unseen, unheard, unworthy, invaluable and unlovable. A pain that can resonate deep and separate you from knowing the true love of God. If you only operate from the giving side of help, can you truly receive the love God may bring your way through others?
Is it better to give than recieve?
A relationship with Jesus Christ begins with acknowledging the need for a savior. When you accept Him into your life you open the door to the other side of help, receiving the greatest blessing God has ever intended for you. Receiving this gift requires the change from operating in your own strength to the reliance on that of God’s. A relationship with God encourages a humble, teachable spirit that communicates your needs to Him, asking for a spiritual intervention and a reliance on what cannot be seen. Choosing to have a relationship with Jesus starts with receiving and focuses on a lifetime of serving and loving others through the love that is first given to you. Navigating the question of how you receive help can highlight false beliefs you may hold about the worth and value God sees in you because help, received or given, is a language of love.
The other side of help reveals another side of healing…
Operating within your own strength can be a way to find protection from the fear of rejection and abandonment. Self reliance can be a coping mechanism that creates a sense of safety; an attempt to avoid criticism, opinion and judgement. Self reliance can also be a way to avoid the feeling of weakness, because at one time in your life you may have had to survive without acknowledging your needs at all. Identifying your needs initiates a vulnerable stance, stepping away from the dependence of self and towards relationship with others. Asking for help and also receiving it, can introduce you to another side of healing. A process that can teach the valuable lesson of trust; knowing that you are seen, heard, acknowledged, valuable and worthy of love.
Help is a glimpse of God.
The other side of help creates the opportunity for you to encounter God’s amazing, lavishing grace, mercy and love. Receiving help reveals that God is good and that God is kind. He can orchestrate healing in the places where you may have believed that needing help was a bother to others or God. It is just as important to receive help as it is to give it because both sides offer a glimpse of the love God intends for you to know. Help is the type of love that can heal your past and protect your future.
I wish I could make the storm stop, take away the pain, and end the chaos. I wish I could bring you to shore here. I wish I could calm the waves, silence the wind, and stop the rain. But I don’t have that kind of power. I can’t control the chaos of this global pandemic.
The emotional stormcan be exhausting.
Life has many emotional storms. Some are gentle, others are fierce. Some leave you feeling as if you are stranded. But this, this storm has been different. This storm has created a dark hour for many. The pandemic has created an emotional storm plagued with uncertainty, anxiety and fear. The chaos of these emotions has tossed you back and forth as you’ve worked hard to stay afloat…survive. This emotional storm has created certain moments of panic, moments where you’ve feared that your ship might capsize, go under. The loneliness and isolation has wreaked havoc on your thought life and has posed a difficult question, “How long will it be until I sink into the depths of depression?”
Let your faith keep you afloat.
Mark 4:35 (NIV) tells us about a time Jesus calmed the storm. As the waves crashed over the boat, and tossed it from side to side, the disciples questioned whether Jesus cared for their safety. As they watched him sleep in the stern of the bough, their hearts entertained moments of fear, anxiety and doubt. When they questioned him, Jesus stood and said to the wind and the waves, “Quiet! Be Still.” The wind then died down, and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”
When Jesus sails with you, you can trust that he will calm the storm.
Have you let him on your boat?
Honestly, the chaos of an emotional storm can be terrifying. The back and forth of the waves of emotions can be hard to predict. Just when you find your sea legs and adjust to the sway, the waves then change direction. In this emotional storm, you may be asked to adjust your sails several times. You may be asked to change the direction of your ship. But Jesus can calm every emotional storm you face. You can do everything within your capability to sail the vast sea of emotions, but only Jesus can calm the waves, silence the wind and stop the rain.
A lighthouse to guide the way.
The same Jesus that calmed the storm then, is able to calm the storm now. The chaos of this emotional storm can create fear that has caused you to question your faith. But even the wind and the waves of your emotions obey him, when you trust him with your heart. God has asked you to be the captain of your own ship. He has entrusted you with the power to adjust your sails in the storms of this season. When it can seem impossible to come to shore in a place of rough waters, there is a light to shine through the darkness, illuminating a path among the waves as you fight to navigate through the wind and the rain. God’s word can be a lighthouse in the dark hour of this pandemic. A guide to shine hope throughout this time of chaos, anxiety and fear. The Bible is a safe space to help you navigate through this very treacherous part of the journey.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. Psalm 119:105
God’s word is a lighthouse to illuminate the path through the waves, the wind and the rain. A lighthouse to stand firm on the shore, to provide a beacon of hope in the darkness you fear. A lighthouse to help guide your ship safely to shore. The process of emotional healing can be a long journey. You may feel alone as you navigate this sea of emotions, but other ships are sailing with you. Let God’s word provide shelter for your wounded heart and rest for your weary soul. As you pass through the rough waters of this time in history, let scripture be a beacon of hope. The love and light of Christ can make the storm stop, end the pain and calm the chaos; strengthening your faith along the way.
Let your faith be in the one who sails with you….Jesus.
There’s a pause; a break in the step, a moment to encounter God as you wait.
Obligation in life often ties you to certain expectations. Moments that obligate your yes intend to further the path of your own will or the will of others. But what if you paused and asked God to free you from obligation? Would you then allow space to be a part of a miracle? Could your no create a space for someone else’s yes? What if your yes facilitates a miracle for others to be blessed?
What motivates your heart…obligation to others or obedience to God?
God is in constant motion through your obedience, and that obedience can create miracles for others. Miracles of favor, blessing and honor.
Jesus’ first miracle was documented in the book of John, Chapter 2. Jesus and his disciples were at a wedding, celebrating the bride and groom. Jesus’ mother had come to him saying, “They have no more wine.” His response seemed blunt, “Woman, why do you involve me? My hour has not come.” If Jesus had performed the miracle at the time of her request, the work of others wouldn’t have been used. Jesus didn’t perform the miracle out of obligation. He was patient through obedience. As Mary saw the need and asked Jesus to intervene…she then had to wait for the miracle. As she waited, she didn’t worry or fret, she prepared the hearts of the others.
Her reply to the servants was this…”Do whatever he tells you.”
And that they did. The servants filled the ceremonial jars full of water. The work they did was not out of obligation to the Master of ceremonies, but because of their obedience to Christ. They filled the jars one by one, not knowing what Jesus was about to do.
Although the servants were not a direct recipient of the blessing, their obedience was an active part of the miracle.
You, too, can be an active part of the blessings for those around you. It takes work. It takes showing up in places that are difficult and filling jars full of water when you’ve prayed for wine. It takes trust and patience to wait to see what God will do with the work you’ve done.
When circumstances in life are beyond our control, pressure below the surface builds. An earthquake happens. Everything is shaken up. But this….this is a different kind of earthquake. It is one within the soul. It’s a shifting of things that are buried deep. Feelings, intense emotions, confusing thoughts, and relentless guilt. The pressure of these intense emotions can build over time. Especially if you refuse to face them. The tension has to go somewhere. Everything shakes and quakes. Life shifts, things change and the pressure is released through thoughts, behaviors and actions. Suddenly you realize in all of your efforts to hold it together….this time, things are falling apart.
After things settle, the blame sets in. Thoughts of guilt and insecurity rock your world. You start to doubt everything that has happened.
“IfI would’ve done this, or that…or said this or that…or knew this or that…things could’ve been different…”
As fast as the earthquake happened….You rebuild your house in the same place it crumbled before.
On the fault line.
You blame yourself.
This is an attempt to make the emotions of the chaos disappear. Chaos caused by others. Emotional earthquakes are confusing. When the shifting and shaking begins, there is a search for control. Sometimes the only control to be had is to find who is at fault. If you can take the blame for what happened or for their behavior…then one day you will figure out how to change it. Because if you can change their behavior, then maybe their anger will stop…or their addiction…their wrong choices…the unfortunate things in life will stop happening. Placing yourself at fault for the way others behave has you taking up permanent residence on the fault line.
But Life can change.
You can sell your property on the fault line. You can give it back to God and the ground can be redeemed. You can embrace the truth of grace and mercy. And one day you can believe that you are blameless in His sight. It’s a declaration that your sin is forgiven and washed away through Jesus Christ. Nothing will snatch you out of his hand. Not one thing.
People you love will have bad days. People you forgive might hurt you again. People might blame you for things that they can’t control.
It’s not your fault.
The emotional earthquake that happens on the fault line is devastating. It shakes you to the core of who you are. It challenges everything you know to be true about yourself. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine living anywhere else, because no one ever told you that you could leave.
You can move.
You can put up the for sale sign. You can sell the land at the fault line. Give the ground back to Jesus. He paid for it anyway. He paid for the sins that keep you trapped there. Reclaim the ground in His name. You can own your part of the story. You can apologize for your actions, behaviors or words that hurt others. And then you can move on. Owning more than your part of the story only keeps you dwelling on the fault line.
The fault line is a dangerous place to live.
When life begins to shift, you can stand firm.
Mathew 7, verses 24-25 says this;
“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall because it has its foundation on the rock.”
Today, you can build a new house, on the rock.
Today I will not be moved. I will not be shaken. When I can’t keep it all together… I know God will hold me when things fall apart. When the toast burns, the milk spills, the glass breaks, the plate shatters…when people in my life think, say or do things I cannot control…I will stand with Jesus and I will build on the truth that matters.
Life sometimes brings storm after storm. The winter that you are in will stay a day too long. And then a tiny miracle happens. God asks you to zoom in. Just for a moment. He invites you to focus on His power in something so small and yet so big. He shows you His sovereignty in the details. He sends you a miracle in the shape of a snowflake…a little love letter that says, “Don’t worry my child…I’ve got this. Trust.” Sometimes during the storm, it’s hard to find the beauty. It’s hard to trust God when the drifts of life pile up faster than you can clear a path. Before the path is clear, and the work is done to make a way… He gives you the most precious gift. A snowflake; pure, perfect and beautiful. The detail of it is intricate and delicate…it’s an invitation to trust His timing. As the drifts of snow pile up at your doorstep, the snowflake is a gift of hope to endure the season that you are in.
It’s a season where all life seems dormant. A season that is hard. A season that causes doubt and worry. It’s easy to lose hope when storm after storm comes. Your eyes may not be able to see the snowflake once it is added to the others. But your heart can remember its beauty and that is what gives you hope. Hope is not found in what you can see. But hope is in what you know to be true. God is in the details of every season.
During winter, its easy to forget that the snow will eventually melt. God will change the season and the snowflake will be transformed into water. This will bring life to the seed that’s been planted and buried deep. The seed then blooms at the right time. If it is exposed to the conditions of winter, it will die. God will use the season you are in to bring change to the next. Through that transformation, new life begins. God is in the details. I can’t say that I remember the snowflake at the moment the flower blooms. BUT…that doesn’t mean that the snowflake didn’t add to the beauty of my life. Sometimes it’s within the season of being buried that you can trust God to do the most powerful work. The work that creates trust in His timing.
The season of Motherhood has had its winters. But God has been so good to send little miracles of hope. Little snowflakes that offer encouragement in the storms. I received one of these snowflakes the other day. I took my oldest son to the Symphony. He and I have weathered many hard days. We have shoveled many pathways to find our way, only to have them covered with the next storm. We’ve put in the emotional work on days where we’ve felt buried. We have endured many hard winters together. But on this day God gave me a glimpse of what’s to come. Only God could know my heart in the way that He does, because only He has heard my prayers for this child throughout the years. It was a date with my son that I will never forget. We share a love for music. Music has been a language that our hearts agree on. The featured musician for the Symphony was a cowboy from Montana. He led us all in a sing along, a rendition of How Great Thou Art. My eyes filled with tears as I thanked God for the winters of Motherhood. I thanked him for the storms that have made me more resilient, the seasons that helped me become who I am. And just at that moment, my son grabbed my hand. He noticed the tears. He held my hand as the tears streamed down my face. This moment was a glimpse from God. A glimpse that helped me see the gentle and caring man my son is becoming. A snowflake of hope to get through the storms and seasons that will come.
How often are you too busy to stop and recognize the beauty of a snowflake? When you are in the middle of winter, do you trust the purpose of the storm? How often do you realize that the storm is preparation for new life? When hope seems lost, God gives you a moment to remind you just how big He is in something so small. It is amazing that He would create such a beautiful detail that most do not see.
The Bible says in Romans 8:18 “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” Think of the glory that is revealed in a single snowflake. Think of the delicate beauty that is displayed. How can you find God during the winter of your life? How can you shift your focus to the beauty of the snowflake? Praising Him within the storm, knowing that He exists in every detail. The snowflake may disappear as fast as it came. When your mind sees the drift, your heart will still know of the intricate snowflake that fell to create it. A detail that only God could know would bring about good in the future. What a powerful message of hope. Sometimes God asks you to zoom in, sometimes He asks you to zoom out. The zooming in is a reminder that He is sovereign over every detail. The zooming out creates the trust that He will orchestrate every detail to prepare you for the next season of life. He will water the seeds that have been planted in faith. The suffering you endure in the winter of life can build the resilience that waters the seeds of faith planted for your future. The beauty of the snowflake may only last a moment…but has lasting effect in creation. A moment to remind you of the beautiful presence of God in every detail. God is using this dormant season. He is intricately and delicately arranging the details, orchestrating every moment to bring beauty to your life. God is cultivating what is buried, to bring it to life at just the right time.
Where is God most at work in the dormant places of your life? Where can you find Him in this season you are in? Where is He sending you a love letter in the form of a snowflake? A moment that says, “Don’t worry my child…I’ve got this. Trust.” God will often send you small miracles to remind you just how big He is. Endure the season you are in. Trust that God will use it to water the next. The snowflake eventually changes to water the seed, but its up to God to say when.
Everything around me is moving in a certain direction, but I am standing still. I’m standing face to face with my expectations. I’m staring at them as if they were suppose to be the reality. My expectations are a dream in my heart. A dream placed by God. While waiting for them to come true I hear, “not yet.”
Sometimes the not yet can feel like not ever. Waiting for God’s timing can be a painful process. Sometimes the pain of that process isn’t obvious. It becomes a search for hope. Losing hope can become a dull ache. A heaviness that follows every moment. A lingering feeling that fades into the background. The fade feels like a silence that is so loud. The pain exists. It just doesn’t have a name or a voice. Not yet.
Pain without a voice leaves me numb. And the numbness creates a space between me and God. A space full of doubt, unbelief, disappointment, devastation and frustration. But God wouldn’t have put the dream in my heart if He didn’t have a purpose for it.
I realize that the wait is more about what God is doing within me, than what I am asking Him to do for me. And in that same breath, the wait is about what God is doing in others. When my expectations are unmet, I can still pray for everything in my heart. That’s where Hope is found. When I give the pain a voice it helps me find the prayer I forgot I prayed. It helps me remember the dream I forgot I had. It keeps the focus on what God is doing to heal my heart rather than what life is doing to harm it.
In Hebrews 11:1 the Bible says that faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. In reading these words, I realize that the expectation is love. Love for myself, love for others and love for God. The distance between the dream and the reality exposes a need that can only be met by God. The absence of love causes pain. A deep pain. When I turn to God with the pain, my expectations change. Love becomes about what I am expected to give, while holding onto what I am hoping to receive. It keeps the dream alive.
I’ve prayed for dreams to come true in my marriage, with my children, with my family, and with my friendships. For some, I am still waiting. The “not yet” carries a burden of “not ever”. But my hope cannot be that my expectations are met. My hope is found in Christ. Expecting good things reveals the dream in my heart. And the space between the dream and life reveals my need for God.
The pain of the “not yet” has a purpose. And that is to find God in the space between the reality and the dream. I’m searching for Him in what I cannot see. This pain has led me to healing and through that I have found purpose. Faith has given me a confidence and an assurance that can be seen by the world. Hope restores my faith to find that love is worth the dream. Even when life whispers, “Not Yet”.
1 Corinthians 13:13
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
Hebrews 11:1
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
It wasn’t obvious; the damage, the destruction, the devastation. It happened on the inside.
I had to invite you into my pain. I had to tell you about it. From the outside, it was a normal looking house, a normal looking life. From the curb, it was a house with a front door, windows and a roof. All seemed perfectly fine, from the outside.
Things looked different on the inside. Once I invited you in, you could then see the carbon chains of ash strung throughout the house. The smoke was so thick, it was hard to breathe. You couldn’t touch a thing without it leaving your hands black from the soot. You could see the hole that was burned through the ceiling, through the roof…straight to the sky. You could see the hole burned in the floor. You could see the damage, the destruction and the devastation on the inside.
The fire burned and smoldered for God only knows how long. A layer of ash and soot remained on everything. Our family lost a lot of things. They had to be thrown away. My Bible was the first thing I saved. In one breath I blew the layer of ashes from the cover. It carried the smell of smoke for two weeks.
I had to invite you in for you to know of the damage and destruction done to the inside of our home. I had to invite you in for you to see the damage done to the inside of our lives.
But before I could let anyone in, I first had to open the door to God. I had to invite Him into the pain. I had to stand in the space where the reality and the flashback met to become the present moment. Flashing back, this moment had happened once before in my lifetime as a child. My parents lost everything they owned. I couldn’t understand the pain of the fire then. The pain became a part of who I was. Experiencing a fire as an adult, my mind tried to reason with the pain. It tried to make sense of it.
My trust was shook to the core. Did I do something wrong? Was God trying to tell me something? I landed on the simple truth. God used the second fire to help me understand the mess of the first. He answered questions I didn’t know I had. Questions that lived deep within my heart. Questions that led me to false answers about God. Through the second fire, I found truth in sifting through the ashes of the first.
God used the second fire to heal me from the mess of it all. But I had to open the door and invite Him into the pain. I had to let Him into the damage, destruction and devastation. It was an invitation into the spaces of pain that appeared “just fine” from the curb of life. He accepted my invitation and completely rebuilt, restored and repaired the inside of my heart and soul. He made everything new. But the newness only came from the exchange of ashes for the beauty.
I remember walking through our house as it was gutted on the inside. This. This was a picture of my heart. Stripped bare…down to the studs. God left the framework. He left the structure. But He completely gutted everything I knew about myself. I started over at places like belief, faith, hope and trust.
Sometimes in life it is easier to keep the front door shut. It is easier to not let anyone see the damage, destruction and devastation that exists on the inside. The curb appeal of having it all together can be the very thing the enemy uses to isolate us. Do people drive by your life thinking that everything is perfectly fine? What does your life look like on the inside? Are there rooms in your heart where you can invite God into your pain? Does a space exist where He can rebuild, repair, and restore the damage from the past or from the present? Is God standing at the door, waiting for the invitation to come inside?
Psalm 23 talks about walking through the darkest valley. In my life the darkest valley began as I walked through the door. My story includes two housefires…one as a child, one as an adult. I don’t understand why the flashback and the moment met to become my reality. Its not for me to know why. That’s not a question God has ever answered. But as I walked through the darkest valley of the housefire, God led me to some amazing places of healing. The healing didn’t come easy. I had to open the door and let God into the places of pain. The Bible says in Psalm 23 vs 6 that Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. During the 6 month season where we were displaced from our home, my heart felt homeless. I searched and longed for a safe place to call my own. It felt as though we lost everything. My heart ached for a sense of routine, a sense to belong, a sense to feel safe. I had to dwell in those spaces with God. It was a place that couldn’t be found here on earth. It was found in my heart. It was a place of surrender. I let God into the deepest part of the inside. And it was there that I found room to dwell on the promises of God. Promises that I couldn’t see. Promises that I had to believe. Promises that said He would exchange the ashes for beauty.
The healing began when I let God in.
Before God could begin, I had to give Him the ashes. In exchange for the ashes, He did a new thing. And that new thing is inside of me. Its a place in my heart that has a home in Christ. A home to dwell to keep safe from the chaos of this world.
Repaired… Rebuilt… Restored.
Psalm 23:1-6
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he
leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his
name’s sake. Even though I walk through
the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your
staff, they comfort me. You prepare a
table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
That moment when you are brought to tears…it isn’t to break
you down…it’s to break you through.
Yesterday it hit me. A flood of tears. God was revealing something to me. Something deep, something profound. The emotions that surfaced felt heavy and confusing. They were hard to understand and impossible to control.
I could push back everything that God was trying to lead me through…OR I could trust that He was about to do something in my heart that He’s been preparing me for. I realized in that moment that I didn’t have to understand. I didn’t have to make sense of it. I grabbed ahold of every emotion that was buried in my heart. God brought them all to the surface. He then asked to break them open one at a time. At first, I didn’t know how. These emotions had been buried deep within me for so long. I didn’t know how to open them up.
As I trusted God to open them up, I then could let go. The tears fell. As they were released, I was completely restored. Because in that moment God was holding on. As I let go of every emotion, God opened them up. And something beautiful happened. This was the moment of breaking through.
God can work beauty into the things in life that we have buried. Geodes form in nature in the spaces below the surface. Spaces buried deep. In that space, a hardened shell begins to form. Once water flows through the hardened shell, crystals form inside. From the outside, the geode appears to be a hardened rock. But once opened, it displays the beauty deep inside. Beauty that was formed within the hardened space.
What if we were to let our tears flow through the hardened spaces of our soul? What if each space that has been buried deep was given to God? Only to be flooded with tears of healing? What could God create if we would surrender those spaces to him? Inside every space of bitterness and resentment…God could create something beautiful.
Forgiveness. Redemption. Restoration. Healing.
Tears in the moment feel like a break down, but as we lean
into God…they become a break through.
The Bible says in Psalms 126 that those who sow in tears will reap songs of joy. In Isaiah 41:10 we are reminded of this: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
God will never lead you to a place of letting go without holding you tight. He will never ask you to open up without holding onto you with His righteous right hand. He will never leave you, forsake you or abandon you. He is creating something beautiful.
Trust.
Trust that God will lead you to the break through, one tear
at a time. In the letting go, He is
always holding on. Trust that in the breaking down, He is leading you to break
through.
Where is God in the midst of pain? When the memory and the moment meet? When what was feels like what is? Where is God?
God is with me in the pain.
He is in the middle of it all, using it for good. He is inviting me to press into the pain and come through to the other side of healing. Healing doesn’t come by erasing the memory. Healing is found by retracing the path one step at a time. There are lessons of wisdom to be learned as the steps are retraced. The same God that was with me in pain of the memory, is the same God that is with me in the pain of the moment. He is allowing this to heal me, not to harm me. By walking through what is familiar, I introduce the memory to the moment. I learn that neither is my truth. My truth is found in the courage it takes to face the pain.
Where there is pain, there is an opportunity to know God.
The reminder of pain is an opportunity to heal. When the memory meets the moment…when what was seems like what is…I can heal by clinging to God and pressing through.
As the healing begins through the memory, I am changed in the moment. The moment then refines me instead of letting the pain define me. It is a moment where the pain ends and a new memory begins. Facing the pain feels like weakness. I am humbled by the tears. The Bible says that through weakness, insults, hardships, persecutions and difficulties of life is where I can discover my strength in Christ. When I am weak, He is strong. The moment of facing my weakness leads to the cross. As I lay down the burden of my pain, an exchange happens. Christ’s power rests on me and I am healed. Through my weakness, I gain strength.
When the memory and the moment meet, God can do something new.
The path may look familiar. The steps may seem the same. What was may resemble what is, but one truth remains. Healing is the birthplace of change. And that change is within me. The memory has healed and the moment has become something new. By facing the pain, I gain strength through my weakness, and wisdom through the healing.
Where there is pain, there is an opportunity to know God.
2 Corinthians 12:9
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses. So that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak then I am strong.
By Hannah L. Halverson
Scattered Rubies 