The tears of the broken

There are times that I feel things so strongly, the only way around it is to write.  It’s like the release button for me… it allows me to identify, sort through and in many ways gives me space to heal.

We’ve been walking a broken road lately…. at times it feels as though bodies are lying around like collateral damage – but that isn’t true.  We’re still standing, maybe limping, but surviving none-the-less.

I find myself searching for words of hope, songs that give voice to the feelings deep within me – anything that can bring relief to all that swirls around me.  Hope to replace feelings of hopelessness.  Joy to replace the pain of brokenness.  Comfort to soothe the sting of loss.  Laughter to slow the tears.

I feel deeply.

But I didn’t always.  I didn’t allow myself to feel the pain of brokenness – mine or others’.  I avoided, stuffed, covered and smothered because that is much easier than feeling.  If I look back on the last 7 years of my life I would have to say the biggest change of all is that I now feel… and I’m learning not to apologize for it.

I am finding it’s in that place of feeling that God draws near.

We have walked through a challenging month.  I’m not sure I’ll ever understand what triggers these seasons.  Lord knows if I can put my finger on it I’ll do everything in my power to avoid it…. but I may never know.  As adoptive parents, we hear a lot about “triggers” which are what we refer to as the moment just before the emotional bomb goes off.  Trace back your steps, your words, your actions… what just happened before everything blew up?

Some things are easy to pick-up on.   Fireworks sound like gunshots.  Medicine looks like drugs.  Old names remind of an old life. Old faces stir painful memories.  Structure, routine, consistency and fun times are our focus – building new tracks for the brain – this is my motivation every day.  Healing – our ultimate goal.  Redemption of this story – the longing of my heart.

One step forward, two steps back.  Two steps forward, one step back.  Then he sends gentle reminders of how far we have really come…. and the cloud of despair begins to lift.  Sweet words of a song:

It’s the dawn of a new day – You’ve painted for me
Colors exploding – telling our story

I’m waking up…

I can feel the rising of the sun
Mercy sings me the promise of your love
And I’m reminded how far we’ve come
You’re the One my heart is beating for

– Morning Song by Steffany Gretzinger

Perspective.  We have come so far.  Take a deep breath and remember – we’re moving forward.  His promise is not that it will be easy; but that we will never walk alone.

And on those days I don’t understand, I will choose to believe.  He is good.  He is faithful.  We have hope.  Love will win.

I spend a lot of my life working hard to hold everything together.  I’m aware of my weaknesses, and I try desperately to keep them shored up. I’m gaining freedom from the pressure to keep it all together…. recognizing the lie I most often hear is that I will never be enough.  There’s too much pain, we’re too much, it will always fall on me…    But then there are tender reminders that I do not walk this path alone.

I didn’t see it coming, that perfect storm of events and the mother of all bombs.  Perfect timing, work deadline, special missions, no perceived margin – but God saw us.  And as I sat in a puddle of tears that were not just my own I could choose to believe in his goodness.

He knew I needed that sweet friend with more years of motherhood under her belt to invest some time in me with ideas of quiet times, stillness, and hope for my girls.  Or the very same week another friend reaching out, can I stop by – bring you dinner?  Something in me resists help, but at the same time, everything in me longs for help.  I have to surrender and let others in.

Even in my messiness  … or should I say especially in my messiness.

The next day I stopped and bought myself flowers.  I choose to believe that beauty will come out of brokenness.  Suffering, crucifixion, and death will bring resurrection, life, and glory.

I’m not far enough in to know how this story will play out but I’ve seen enough to believe redemption is coming.

This weight that feels overwhelming, the pain of brokenness, the words that pierced my heart and made me question everything – this isn’t where I will stay.  He is no stranger to this pain.  I almost hear his still small voice saying, I know how you feel and trust me, it will be worth it.

So friend, find hope… you are not alone in your pain, in your loss or in the brokenness of this place.  When all hope seems lost, when darkness falls… let us not forget, Sunday is coming.



1 thought on “The tears of the broken”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s