Tag Archives: healing

An Open Heart – Part II

(To read PART I, click here …)

Expect nothing… Just keep an open heart and an open mind.

Once in Florida, Mark and I planned to visit my dad. We also decided to drive a couple of hours to Tampa to finally see his biological son, Marshil. Mark hadn’t seen him since he was a small boy. My husband remained deep in thought, and I could only imagine he was full of nerves. I pretended to go along with Mark’s plan to drive to Tampa.

Meanwhile, I was secretly scheming a different plan. I initially informed Marshil about our plans to be in Kissimmee during Father’s Day week. He said he planned to be there for a few days, too. He had tickets to attend a concert. I asked Marshil if he had mentioned any of this to Mark. He said no. I suggested that he keep it that way. So, together, we decided to arrange a surprise reunion for Mark.

When the big night finally arrived, the meet-up place was at a nice steak joint. Mark was none the wiser. He thought it was just a date night. We were planning to head out to Tampa the next day. Later, when Mark came out of the restroom, Marshil stood right in front of him, saying hello. Mark’s expression? Priceless! Those two embraced, and for a moment, time stood still.

I once heard it said: It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.

I sat pensively, observing the mannerisms of a father and son. While listening to their conversation, I was amazed. Watching their connection unfold right before my eyes touched me deeply. I deeply hope and pray that these two men, so much alike, will truly reconnect. I wish they could regain some of those years gone by. Neither one has had an easy life. Many experiences are filled with pain, discouragement, and regret. Some hard lessons are in tow.

Some time later, I asked my hubby what he had taken away from meeting Marshil. He answered, with misty eyes, “I expected nothing but hoped for the best. I really like him! And he doesn’t hate me!”

I’ve read that every man tries to live up to his father’s expectations. Alternatively, he may try to make up for his father’s mistakes. I don’t know how much of that is true. I know that these two men have strong work ethics. They are likable, lovable, and loyal. There is a little craziness in them. They have a record of being number-one, devoted stepdads.

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“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.”
—C.S. Lewis

Today, the dam was broken. The tide has turned. The waters shifted.

Only God can heal and transform hearts. While it’s true we don’t know what the future holds, I know Who holds our future. I’m giving all my concerns to God. He will work out the details of my uncertainties and troubles. He’s a lot better at holding things together than I am anyway. Thank you, Lord, for being the Author and Finisher of my faith!

Here’s to second chances and new beginnings! We look forward to spending more quality time together and expect meaningful conversations in the coming days, months, and years. 

Click here to read “My Heartbeat – PART I”

 

 

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Filed under Father's Day

A Word Fitly Spoken …

Re-reading this quote spoken to me so many years ago still brings up a sea of memories of a difficult place in time.

As you can imagine, I was going through hell. All along thinking I was alone, I never realized that God not only heard my cries, but He knew of my pain too! Just like the song goes: He was there all the time–and in my case–God used someone with skin to not only pray but to reach out to me in my darkest hour.

It seemed like forever that I was blinded and so discouraged; I really didn’t see a way out of my situation. But a neighbor, who quickly became a true friend, made me her business. She wasn’t condemning or pushy; she spoke life over me! She was caring and loving and wise beyond her years. She prayed much and gently wooed me back into the arms of my Heavenly Father. Eventually, I received the support I needed and slowly began to heal. Sanity and wisdom kicked in, and I did what I needed to do for myself and for the welfare of my small children.

What am I saying?

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I wrote Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace so that others might find hope beyond their hopelessness and despair. We’re all walking through something. We all have a story. Some are strong enough to stand on their own, while others need a little encouragement and help in finding their way. They may have been lied to, beaten down, some even to the point of isolation. Ever been ashamed of your pain? I was.

No matter what, you can rise above your circumstances. It takes a made-up mind and a determination to change. Allow your experiences to make you a better person, not a bitter one. Many times what we’ve gone through can help someone else to overcome his or her own struggle.

There are people around you hurting. Make them your business. A warm smile, a kind word, a gentle touch. Show them love. Give them hope. Be the hands and feet of Jesus.

Bloom where you’re planted.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jer. 29:11

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Filed under Christianity, encouragement, Kindness

Beauty For Ashes

Beauty For Ashes

“To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.”
Isaiah 61:3
(Photo Credit: forashes.org)

Today’s devotion is based on Isaiah 61:3. While this passage brings me comfort, it also raises a question I often wrestle with:

How can there be even a smidgen of beauty in the midst of rubble? In ashes? How is that even possible?

These questions don’t come lightly. They rise from places in my life marked by grief, loss, and deep sorrow, moments where beauty felt completely absent.

I remember seeing my baby sister lying in her small white coffin. And in that moment, beauty was the furthest thing from my mind.

When I noticed my mama with bruises on her body, I couldn’t see anything beautiful in that.

The man I once knew for his strength and steady footing slowly became someone unrecognizable, reduced to a sloppy drunk after just one drink; nothing was charming about that.

Watching my grandpa become a prisoner in his own body, his once strong, barrel-chested frame turning frail and sunken, didn’t resemble anything I would call beautiful.

And my grandma—once so full and vibrant—grew thin and weak from illness. That, too, was hard to look at.

I can still see the back of my former husband as he walked away, leaving me behind in a heap of sobs, calling out his name. There was nothing picturesque about that moment.

My tiny 29-day-old granddaughter, swollen from fluids and lying in a medically induced coma after open-heart surgery—that wasn’t something my eyes could call beautiful.

Scars are not beautiful. Neither are hidden bruises, whether on the body or the heart.

Death is never beautiful, and the grief that follows is a weight no one should have to carry. Hunger isn’t beautiful. Loneliness isn’t beautiful.

Repossession isn’t quaint. Foreclosure is far from delightful.

So how can there be beauty for ashes?

It doesn’t come by erasing the ashes. It rises from them.

This kind of beauty doesn’t pretend the pain never happened. It doesn’t gloss over the heartbreak or tidy it up into something neat. Instead, it grows out of the very places that tried to break us. It’s a quiet, resilient kind of beauty, one that allows the hurt to be woven into something greater.

For me, that beauty is found in hope.

Hope when everything feels hopeless.
Hope that what is broken will one day be made whole.
Hope that the pain will not last forever.
Hope that justice will come.
Hope that scattered pieces can be gathered and rebuilt.
Hope for healing, for relief, for restoration.
Hope that light will break through the darkness and a new day will come.
Hope that this, too, shall pass.

Hope in heaven.

And most of all, hope in the promise that one day, we will see again the loved ones we’ve had to let go.

So today, I can say it with confidence, maybe even shout it from the mountaintop:

Thank You, Lord, for turning the ugliness in my life into something beautiful.

 

 

Out of sadness and hurt, will come strength and victory.

11 Comments

July 23, 2015 · 10:39 PM

The Battle Is Real

C. S. Lewis said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

Bad things happen to good people. The Bible says: It rains on the just and unjust. (Matt. 5:45)

We are not immune to suffering, pain, hardships, struggles, and losses. Adversities are part of life. The battle is real with me just as much as it is with you. Some suffer in silence, and some scream at the top of their lungs while alone. Although in a different way, inner turmoil can hurt just as much as physical pain. We battle within just as much as our outer shell. Pain is pain. When you hurt, you HURT. You may not see my pain, and I may not see yours, but it doesn’t lessen the reality. Someone said: Pain is inevitable, and suffering is optional.

Sometimes we are left with scars. Our heart has melted … waxed cold … turned numb. We are consumed with grief, despair, and unanswered questions. What do we do now? Where do we go? Who do we run to? When will it end? How much more? Why, God? Why?

I’ve learned that adversity can either make you or break you. I wonder: Is it possible to go through the fire and come out without the stench of smoke? Don’t let adversity crush you. Build a support system: Family, Faith, Friends. Resilience is like a muscle that strengthens as it is gradually exposed to obstacles.

As a Christian, I may not have all the answers to the whys, but I have unwavering faith, even when my flesh is shaken. There is nothing too hard for Him; therefore, I can rest in the midst of challenges.

Though the tears may fall and the struggles may come, there will be a time of refreshing and healing, maybe not in my timeframe, but in His perfect timing. I am a little stronger and a little wiser after each storm. I am comforted knowing that my battle belongs to God and He hears the cries of the brokenhearted. (Psm. 147:3)

In times of suffering …

 “Either you’ll become better, or you’ll become bitter, but you won’t be the same again.”

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Photo Credit: Unknown Source

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Filed under Inspirational, Overcoming Adversity, Resiliency