I'm Not Broken.

Dear Lord, I feel vulnerable sharing this part of my story. But use it as you desire. Help others to know they are not alone. That they too can share with someone their hurt and begin to heal. In Jesus' name amen.

“I’m good” I replied with a smile. I wasn’t good. I was broken. But good Christians don’t come to church broken. But then, good Christians don’t lie either and I just did. A tear escaped my eye—I couldn’t stop the tears any longer. I fled to the bathroom to cry bitterly. A compassionate someone God sent comforted me there.

I had to admit I was broken. It hurt. Stupid tears revealed so much.

It hurt so much behind that smile I had kept on my face for so long. The smile itself wasn’t the lie. That I was doing good-was. I had the joy of the Lord, but I was also broken in pieces.

This pain was communicating a hurt that I did not fully realize was there. Pain is a form of communication. Like when you put your hand on a burner and the heat causes pain--you jerk away to prevent further damage. Likewise, the pain after being burned reminds you to tend to the burn so it can heal properly.

Through the pain I realized that I would not fully know God as my Heavenly Father until I found a desperate need for father that could not be filled by my earthly one.

I’ll be honest. I had a hard time calling my pain anything.

I was frustrated, hurt, angry, sad, and a whole Smörgåsbord (yeah I checked the spelling, lol) of emotions. But I couldn’t put my finger on why. Why was my heart tired? Why did I feel like I was on eggshells all the time? Then I realized and acknowledged for the first time. The dad I loved had abused me and my family.

Abuse? I thought abuse was only when someone was physically struck or had unwanted intercourse forced upon them.

I didn’t think twice about bruised hearts, lost trust, or emotional hurt. After all, you can’t see those pains.

After I realized what it was, a flood of undealt with verbal blows, uncomfortable memories, and name-calling moments came to mind. It surprised me how many suppressed emotions and memories I had bottled up in the name of being ok. I felt every emotion in the grief cycle over and over. It surprised me, but anger was a big one for me.

• I was angry at him for hurting me.

• I was angry at me for allowing myself to get hurt.
  

• I was angry at others for not doing something.

• I was angry at God.
  

Even my good memories became filtered through my anger.

And I’ll want to talk about the grief cycle, anger and its importance (yes I said that) later in this blog. But for now… I want to acknowledge that I found out something about pain that I did not know before.

Pain once realized, is the beginning of the healing journey.

While there is no time-frame mentioned in the Bible on healing or grieving. If we allow ourselves to realize something hurts and feels broken, we can have hope that God will work something new in us there. There is hope after these things have happened.

Removing pain might take doing something painful as Dr. Henry Cloud says, even if that simply means acknowledging the memories!

Pain is not the end of the story, but the beginning of a new one in which you lean heavier on a Good Heavenly Father.

with joy,

MJ