I don’t know about you, but I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak. It’s one of those universal experiences. Once we get to an age where we can comprehend pain versus pleasure, love versus hate, and joy versus sadness or anger, we begin to realize that heartbreak is a guarantee in life. We experience it when someone dies, when someone mistreats us, when a goal goes unachieved, and the list goes on. Don’t let any of this keep you down though, it’s just a part of life. If there are ups, there will be downs; if there are successes, there will be failures; and if there is love, hate will be lurking somewhere. But you know what? That’s okay. It’s okay that every experience in life won’t be the best experience. The key is not allowing a bad day, a bad breakup, a bad experience define you. Instead, make room for God—so He can receive the glory in your story. Although healing doesn’t always come easy, we have to know that without healing, we can’t be the best version of ourselves. Without healing, we can’t love properly—we can’t love others, ourselves, and most importantly, we can’t love God as He deserves.
As for me, I’ve been there. I’ve been in such a dark place—so heartbroken that healing seemed impossible. However, despite giving up on myself, there was someone who never gave up on me—that someone was my Heavenly Father, my Lord and Savior, my truest friend. It was as if I experienced multiple deaths at once—the death of friendships, the death of a sisterhood, and the death of a relationship—new failures, and previous wounds that resurfaced because they never quite healed in the first place. It felt like my entire life was under attack. For over two years I struggled to get my footing. One moment I would conger up the strength and determination to make sure that the day was better than the previous. A couple hours later, I would be skipping class, missing my workout, overeating or undereating (depending on what was the driving force of my pain at the moment), sleeping all day or missing sleep for nights on end, or crying myself to sleep, and so on. My smile had disappeared and when it did show up, it was forced and fake. I literally felt no joy, ever, even when God sent a blessing my way.
I made sure I concealed it well. I didn’t speak about my emotions, lean on anyone’s shoulder, or shed tears in the midst of others. Quietly, I had completely spiraled. I mean, I was the girl who would wake up early, work out frequently, eat healthy, encourage others, and challenge myself. I was a good-spirited individual. There was life in me. But somewhere down the line, I stopped caring. I stopped loving myself. It was an endless cycle of negativity. I recognized how far I had fallen, and the darkness got darker. I wasn’t healing. I was self-destructing.
The surprising part about all of it—I wasn’t seeking restoration. God had wiped out those relationships and situations for a reason—that much I knew. So, I wasn’t looking for God to restore those relationships or situations, nor did I want some sort of do-over. I didn’t want the old. I just didn’t know how to move forward. Instead of leaning on Him and His understanding as a guide to move forward gracefully, I wallowed. I gave into the fear of the unknown—the anger, sadness, hurt, and pain. Most of all, I held onto the heartbreak of my own doing—I allowed the disappointment I had with myself, to leave the biggest mark on my heart, mind, and body; my spirit was broken.
Despite all that pain—the pain others had caused and the pain I caused myself, there was healing afterwards. Was it slow? Lord knows I felt like it was. I spent two years feeling low and lost. But in those two years, God showed me who I was in Him; He revived me. Instead of restoration, He gave me elevation.
However, there was work I had to do for myself (work I am still doing). It was (and has been) an upward battle. There were times that I regressed—falling back into the traps of Satan—nurturing bad habits that I had developed in my time of pain. Even now, there are times when I feel that heavy weight on my shoulders. Sometimes when I’m faced with a new, relatable challenge, it mentally takes me back to that heartache. There are times where I feel two years behind—as if those two years I lost to depression harmed my future. I realize now (I have to remind myself frequently) it hasn’t. Those two years were two years well spent because I learned from it and grew. The lessons God needed me to learn is the reason why I pass the tests of today. Yeah, although I’ve healed from that past heartbreak with friends and everything else during that time, I’m human. There will be times that I fall short. But today, I turn to God. I don’t try to hide or conceal those parts of myself from Him. Instead, I give Him all of my burdens and start anew.
You see, it doesn’t matter how long it takes you to heal. As long as you stay obedient to God and remain hopeful, faithful, and intentional about healing—one day you’ll find yourself smiling again, genuinely laughing, or just walking with a little extra pep to your step. There is healing after heartbreak—you just have to choose it. Choose life over death; choose prayer over defeat; choose health over illness; and choose healing over heartbreak or joy over pain. Let me leave you with a word I wish I had come across sooner, Matthew 11:28-30:
“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”
So, ladies and gents, don’t get caught up in or stuck on the pain. Stay the course—find comfort and peace in Christ and accept the healing God can and will give you, if you just trust Him enough to let Him. If there’s heartbreak, you best believe that there is a healing with your name on it!
Until next time,
Peace & Love