A Word on Healing

Why is it always your most well intentioned friend who cuts you down or throws you into a depression spiral?

One of my well intentioned friends messaged me on facebook (you know I love facebook!) that she had a miscarriage and that even though it was sad, her heart was now healed. I messaged that I am glad that she was happy but that I cried over her baby. I get a message back that I need to let God heal my heart and that I can’t go on like this and to promise her I will let God’s love heal me.

Am I not letting God heal my hurt? Is it my fault that I’m still emotional about miscarriages and lost babies? Am I defective?

I messaged her back. I recounted everything I had gone through and what God has already done to heal me. One of the things God did was free me from being afraid of sex. I was terrified that I would become pregnant and not survive a second miscarriage. I didn’t want to go through the literal hell I went through losing Jason. And I haven’t even shared the half of it.

Stories of drug addicts who welcome Jesus into their hearts and never touch drugs or alcohol again are fantastic stories of the awesomeness of God. Then you hear stories of people who are saved and battle addiction their whole lives. It is easy to think, Geez, that guy is doing it wrong. Maybe he’s not saved. Maybe he’s not letting God work in him.

Maybe.

But maybe something greater is happening there. Maybe the constant day by day struggle for survival makes that person dependent on God and dependable for God. Maybe that guy is growing and becoming more like Christ every second they flee from temptation. Maybe that guy’s treasures in heaven will outweigh his chaff. Maybe that guys struggles make him more accessible to a group God wants him to reach. Maybe that is God’s plan for him – to shine His love and His light and His glory into dark souls and the dark corners of the earth. Maybe the places he can reach cannot be reached by the guy who was instantly healed.

Most likely.

Emotional pain is difficult. Unlike physical wounds, you can’t see them. You can’t gauge how much longer it will take to heal. There’s no cast for broken feelings. We are all wounded soldiers: arms in slings, bandaged up, and limping through life. It is why God wants us to bear one another’s burdens and to share our joy and grief with one another. It helps healing.

The Incident

I’ve been watching The Apartment recently. It was co-written and directed by my birthday buddy Billy Wilder, and it is one of my favorite films. It addresses multiple issues with frankness and heart. It takes place during the holidays and there’s an attempted suicide. They should play this movie on TV on a loop during Christmas so that people can see suicide is not the answer.

My favorite scene (at this point in my life) is a pivotal one for the story. Baxter asks Fran what she thinks of his hat. She claims to like it, but her thoughts are elsewhere and he doesn’t believe her. Fran hands him her compact to prove that it looks nice. When he peers into it, he sees that the mirror inside is cracked. The cracked compact reveals to Baxter that Fran is in a secret relationship with their boss. She notices the dismay on his face and asks about it. He tells her it’s because the mirror is broken. Then she utters a line of dialogue that echoes my current situation:

Yes, I know. I like it that way. It makes me look the way I feel.

I feel broken. I feel ugly. I feel fat. I feel like a failure and a loser. I feel incompetent and untalented. I feel depressed. I feel these things in part because of the incident.

In case you didn’t know, I lost my second son on January 29th and I almost went with him. I don’t want to talk about it, because I don’t want to relive it. I will never completely get over this, but I know that over time, I will hurt less. Maybe I’ll be able to share it with you. Right now I’m dealing with survivor’s guilt and it is taking all that I have to even write this post. But I am going to force myself to move forward, to allow myself to grieve, and to check in with you guys more often. Here is a piece of cinematic genius until then: