Let’s call you Brave because that’s who you are, you’ve showed up, you’re still here – Brave is not just who you’ve been, it’s who you are becoming.
I’ve been on a rather painful journey of healing and recovery and I thought you may need to hear some things that I’ve been learning – and wished someone had told me.
Over a year ago, I wrote a blog called “Time doesn’t heal – God does” and as I’ve re-read it in a completely different season, I look back and would have never anticipated to be where I am today. That blog still holds so much truth, yet there is still so much more I have to learn about healing.
Depression and Anxiety have strangled me, suffocated any inch of hope I had inside. Like Psalm 88:18 there were days where it felt like ‘Darkness was my only Friend’ – I was beginning to understand why people take their life. The pain I was facing was crushing me. I lamented, grieved and raged over the season I was in.
A few weeks ago, I cut my finger and received a few stitches but watching the wound heal has become fascinating to me. No matter how much I willed it to heal, my finger had its own agenda and there were stages that were so necessary in its healing.
First – my finger went numb, and not just the finger that received stitches but the majority of my hand. The pain was just too great to initially bear, but once the numbing wore off, my finger throbbed, and I was up most nights in pain. The skin was hard, hot and red. This was healing pain, different from the pain when I cut myself, but it still hurt me.
The pain started to subside, I uncomfortably removed the stitches, and wanted to see a gloriously beautiful finger, but here I was bleeding again. The stitches needed to go, and I needed my body to start to figure out how to hold itself back together again – and it did.
My finger scabbed; it itched.
I w a s h e a l i n g .
I’ve woken up countless days hoping to will away the pain inside my heart; I’ve journalled about it, written poetry expressing it, painted it, and screamed it. My will is pretty powerful, but thank you Jesus – so is healing, like honest real healing.
My heart went numb, it was hard. Any love expressed was an art, a facade to hide what was really going on inside. When the numbing wore off, I ached… every fibre of my being. I was tired, I had no energy, I had family and friends hold me while I wept uncontrollably, unable to communicate the chaos inside me.
There were really messy days, where it seemed like things were starting to get worse instead of getting better.
Brave, the days will get better.
I couldn’t burn my own light, but others did for me. I found it in them.
I am still healing, I am still willing, I am still showing up for myself. I am still trusting and believing there is a redemptive end to this story.
My finger is teaching me how to trust the process, how to embrace the stages that are NECESSARY for true healing. We can’t anticipate what and how the healing will take place, and yes it will take time, but time doesn’t do the healing – God does.
It will be okay, it has to.