This world is full of so many things that break our hearts. It can be something big or something little, but the pain is almost the same. The biggest thing with a broken heart is how long it can persist. The pain will come in waves and there will be days that are really good. But it’s those days that get dark as night that take the breath right out of your lungs.
People who know this feeling know the helplessness you can feel. It’s like the days start blending together and you aren’t sure if you’re really alive or just going through the motions. The sadness grips you and sometimes shakes you to your core. You find yourself crying when a certain song comes on the radio or when the thoughts get so heavy they have no where else to go. I have been on a few broken heart journeys in my life and I can tell you that it’s through these times that I have grown the most.
It’s hard to think that a broken heart can ever yield anything good, especially while you’re going through it. I’ve been going through it for a while now and it’s gut wrenching. It feels like someone has taken all the colors out of the rainbow and replaced them with gray. I’m already sensitive as a baby’s bottom anyway but tack on a broken heart and you’ve got a big old “crying sack,” as my friend calls me. I fight the sadness like I’m clawing my way through a jungle of thorns. How can anything good possibly come from this?
Oh I’ll spare you all the details of what caused this broken heart, because it doesn’t really matter. Broken hearts pretty much all hurt the same no matter the cause. I hear people say “time heals all wounds.” But I disagree. Time alone cannot take away the pain of heartbreak. Time keeps on ticking away while I count the hours, the days, and the months yet the hurt still lingers. It’s an emotional scab that looks better some days and festers the next. I’ve tried to fill the void in my soul but I get pulled back in like I’m circling a drain.
One thing I’ve noticed is that most people don’t even have a clue that something is wrong. Even though there are days my eyes look through the world like I’m looking through ghosts but most people don’t even see it. I guess that is what makes this journey even harder. I want someone to care, to acknowledge that “hey, I see you hurting.” But I am afraid that if someone asks me what’s going on I would shatter like someone thumped paper thin glass. I see the world moving on in front of me, almost at a whirlwinds pace, and I want so badly to jump out of this aching place to join the land of the living. I watch people more intently now than ever before. I recognize and empathize when I see that all too familiar hopelessness in someone’s eyes. I can’t fix myself much less anyone else but if I can just let them know I see them, it’s cathartic for me. Maybe part of the key to healing my own brokenness is acknowledging someone else’s and knowing that I’m not all alone.
I’ve begged God to help heal my broken heart. I’ve sobbed in the shower to the point that I couldn’t breathe. The healing hasn’t come in an instant. Instead it’s one step forward, a few stumbles, ten steps back, some hiccups, a few more stumbles and maybe six steps forward. Healing is a process and a process requires patience. I keep thinking that maybe God has gone deaf to my cries. Maybe He’s sick to death of my crying and has just put me in the corner for a bit to sort it all out. But I know…I KNOW…that in the quietness is where I’m supposed to cling closer to Him. I have tried walking on this path my way and I’ve tried fixing things my way. Always being the “where there’s a will, there’s a way” kind of girl hasn’t fixed this. And it’s because maybe my will isn’t His will.
I have wanted something good to happen for so long just to bring some closure to the heartache. I’ve thought that perhaps if something good happened then it would take the focus off the pain and let me heal completely. I’ve thought perhaps if someone could just love me, I would be healed. Love conquers all, right?? But if I haven’t made peace with the heartache, how can I possibly be prepared to receive what is meant for me?
I recently read Bless Your Heart, Rae Sutton by Susannah B. Lewis. If you haven’t read it, run…don’t walk…to buy it. There was a section in the book where this other broken hearted lady was reminded of the anchor to her soul and the lyrics of the old hymn, My Anchor Holds. It hit me that I’d been trying to grasp onto anything that resembled happiness rather than grabbing the anchor that would hold me steady. There is no way around a broken heart other than through it. But going through it is like being tossed in a turbulent sea. If I’ve got a firm grasp on my anchor, my God almighty, then it doesn’t matter what comes. The waves may rage, my tears may fall, the nights may drag on forever but if I am holding on to my anchor, I am going to be ok.
There’s no magical cure for a broken heart. Though I question how much longer this can last, I know it can’t last forever. So until the pieces of my broken little heart are put back together again, I will hold tight to my anchor. I will steady myself when I start to drift away. One day, hopefully soon, the colors will fill the rainbow again. I’ll listen to the songs on the radio without shedding a single tear. And my anchor….my anchor will still hold.
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