Mend: Nurture the Hope Within
Note: This blog is a personal recollection of survival and faith, and not a substitute for professional counseling or advise. Read at your own risk. When in doubt, seek out a professional opinion.
The Weightiness of It All
It all begins with a choice to survive.
Just a few short months after getting married, I was in physical therapy three times a week for some neck and back injuries I had sustained from a car accident. My car had been hit from behind by a drunk driver, and I didn’t realize at the time the incredible toll it had taken on my body. When I found myself wobbling up a flight of church stairs and physically unable to control the button on a drinking fountain without perpetually shaking my right arm, I knew something wasn’t exactly right. Little did I realize that the car accident had weakened injuries in my body from a previous car accident decades before that had never fully healed.
Even though I was grateful to finally be in physical therapy, the exercises were leaving me in tremendous pain by the end of each day. This may have had something to do with the bright idea of mine to schedule my physical therapy sessions at the crack of dawn before work each day. Remind me never to do that again! By the time 5:30 pm rolled around each evening, I found myself collapsing to the floor, scrunched up into a throbbing bundle of aching, inflamed muscles. Standing hurt, sitting hurt, and even lying down hurt. It was just a matter of deciding which part of my body I was going to feel. Despite the fact that I had dealt with increasing amounts of chronic pain and weakness from these injuries for years, I was not sure which was worse- the sickness or the cure!
Eventually, as the weeks ticked past, I began to notice a sense of progress with my exercises. Less pain, more strength and mobility. You cannot imagine how much this lifted my spirits.
There was true hope in my journey after all.
An Unfair Pairing
I heard a pastor preach recently on what the word “glory” from the Bible means. In its most literal sense, it means “weight” or “heaviness.” When you attribute glory to someone or something, there is a weightiness and significance that you are attributing to that person or thing. The pastor made an anecdotal illustration about his little girl’s dolly high chair. He reasoned that if he were to try to sit in that chair, his “glory” would be too much for it. The chair would undoubtedly fall to pieces.
This got my mind thinking about a verse in the Book of Matthew 11:28-30:
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
I’ve heard it said that when oxen are yoked together in the fields, a younger or weaker ox is often paired with an elder, stronger, and more experienced one. The yoke is actually designed in such a way that the stronger ox must bear the brunt of the burden himself, allowing the less experienced ox to carry just enough to strengthen him without becoming crippled under the intense weight.
Beginner weight lifters understand this concept. When they are just starting out, even very light weights can feel extremely difficult to maneuver. Yet with time and enough consistent training, the exact same dumbbells that once felt impossible to lift begin to “feel” lighter and lighter. Of course, it isn’t the weights themselves that are changing.
It’s the lifter whose grown.
So it is with us and the struggles we carry in this life. Christ is the stronger ox. As we stay “yoked” in relationship with Him, He is ever able to carry the bulk of the heaviness that would otherwise seem to crush us. Yet, His ultimate aim is not that we should stay as weak, emaciated servants. God’s greater desire is that we should grow in His likeness- taking on the shape of His spiritual muscles little by little each day. It isn’t that He desires for our lives to be burdensome or harsh. It’s that He knows that if we continue to strive with Him in the fields, we will become a reflection of His glory that shines like diamonds against a velvety black canvas of this homesick world.
It may not feel or look like glory in the immediate aftermath of something that could never be described as beautiful. You may not yet see the hope that exists for your current circumstances. Yet there is One who stands right beside you, ready for you to partner with in your strivings to survive each day. As He promises, His yoke is easy and burden is light. Not because the circumstances are easy or light, but because He is strong enough to carry them with you. This is not only one of His deepest desires, but it is a treasured labor of His great love for you.
Dear One, no matter what you’ve been through or what you’ve done- you can have hope today because of His unwavering and unlimited love for your unique and precious life. In this life we will face many trials, consequences and at times pain. Sometimes our trials are physical and other times they are complex emotional ones.
Will you allow Him to partner with you, under the weightiness of it all?
Healing Can’t Be Skipped
According to woundevolution.com, there are four stages of healing from a physical wound: hemostatis, inflammation, proliferation, and maturation. Each and every stage of healing is vital and important.
If any of these stages were skipped, the wound would not heal properly and it would be left in an inevitable heaping infested mess.
So it is with you and me. When we have an emotional wound, we need to take the time to let ourselves go through each stage of the healing process. It does not have to be in vain. Yet we must let each stage come to full completion to find the maturity that we are seeking.
In the early stages, we need to allow ourselves to rest and find respite and community support. It can be beneficial to start small. I remember practically hibernating in my home for the first year after “the day my world stopped.” For the first month, my youngest brother worked remotely from the confines of my home, so that he could be a silent supporter during my initial shock. Through his and my husband’s purposeful ministry of presence, I felt the covering that I needed while I wrestled through the beginning stages of grief, numbness, and disbelief. They were a huge part of my hemostasis, or stabilization.
Later on, I began to slowly open up to more of my family and friends. Often this was through phone calls or texts. I’m so grateful to my husband, who at times carried the bulk of household responsibilites whenever it was needed. I needed so much time and energy to process. Regarding the sudden loss of a child, I heard someone once say “it only hurts when you breath.” They were not wrong. Just getting up in the morning to take a shower, get to work, and focus on the daily tasks of living was extremely taxing on my emotions. Everything I had left at the end of the day, I gave to my children. Then, every night after I rocked my youngest to sleep I allowed myself to cry. I didn’t know it was possible to cry every night for over two years straight, but I assure you it is.
It was only through God’s strength that I was able to make sure my kids were cared for properly during this time, along with my husband’s support. Sometimes that was just sitting with them while watching “Winnie the Pooh” for the zillionth time. One time, it meant risking a laugh when my three-year old daughter splashed me with a handful of bubbly water during her bath. Other times, it meant dancing with her in the kitchen to the sound of the radio when no one else was around to “judge.”
Yet, with each new day and each little step forward, I began to be able to give more of my attention and my heart to a larger circle of trusted family and friends. It’s okay to choose a “small but mighty circle” for this stage of your journey. It can be beneficial to take your time and be intentional about one little thing each day.
Of course, that doesn’t mean sitting and being completely stagnant forever. Eventually, its like that physical therapy that hurts a bit worse in the beginning. Part of healing is doing the things that will strengthen those weakened emotional muscles. This is when God allows us to carry a little bit more of the yoke each day. It’s not to harm us. It’s because He wants us to become stronger- He knows we need to survive and grow and find greater purpose again.
He wants us to proliferate and mature, allowing our wounds to fully heal with the help of his everlasting arms.
Someone once told me that “there’s no other way but through.” Somehow, this has been a comforting realization for me. It’s been kinda like “Well, if this is the only way to go, then this is the direction I will head.”
As you grow, your grief may never be completely gone. I will always remember my darkest hour and it is still with me each day that I live. Yet, I have found that God has shown me that I have grown around my grief. I’m a different person, but I am also a walking expression of His faithfulness and His ability to make something new out of what felt like a heaping pile of rubble. That doesn’t make me a hero. All it does is point to Him, and I’m okay with that! I pray that this is the direction I will continuously choose to walk.
Elisabeth Elliot wrote a book entitled “Suffering is Never for Nothing.” I highly recommend. We may not always understand the reasons why God allows certain trials or consequences into our lives, until we are face to face with Him. What we can trust is that very often (in fact, I might argue always) God will use our suffering in such a way where, as Elliot puts it, there will be “repercussions for the life of the world.” Provided, of course, that we choose to let Him show us the way.
You and I will never get to see those incredible, life giving impacts unless we choose to survive, allow Christ to carry the burden with us, and have just enough faith to wait for each stage of healing to take its course in our lives.
