We all experience pain and loss. Life is fraught with disappointments. We walk through sadness, live among evil, and breathe grief. How do we live? Where is the hope? How do we stitch up the brokenness?
Suffering is what makes us human. Some never rise out of the mire. Others find light. The wound may never completely heal, but it is how we tend to it that determines our spirit.
I have known darkness. There have been periods when I couldn’t breathe, as though I was trapped at the bottom of a pool with no way to the surface. It would have been easy to crawl to the back of the closet and stay there; I’d hide behind the old shirts and dusty shoes while the pain swirled outside the door, but I knew this wouldn’t serve anyone, especially me. I had babies to tend to, bills to pay, my life to live, my life to save.
I have friends who have known struggle…. a devastating diagnosis, the unbearable death of a child, an unexpected job loss, a disintegrated friendship. The beautiful ones have crawled through the thick fog of anguish to emerge more delicate, more lovely, more precious. They are warriors whose armor is love and weapons are acceptance. They are my heroes in this world full of corruption and hate.
Our wounds are our badges, and with each cut we move closer toward grace.
So take a moment to acknowledge your own wounds. Embrace them for what they are for they are the beautiful you.