Love Me Back to Life

There have been many great heartaches in my life. My father was the first.

He was a good man--stable, provided for his family, strong, intelligent--but he didn't show love well or let himself be known. My childhood attempts at connection were usually crushed by his complete obliviousness to my heart. I'd present my little tender heart only to have a cold door slammed in my face. The depth of the ache he left inside of me was as immense as I was little. As young child, I'd watch my neighborhood friends interact with their dads and my heart would break for the love I desperately wanted, but would never have. I tried to be good and impress him, but I couldn't make him love me. I couldn't be good enough to make him tender. I lived with a man who I couldn't know and who didn't desire to know me. He was a stranger and I feared him.

My father never showed much emotion other than anger. I felt my tender heart would be punished or hurt worse if it were ever revealed. So, I'd hide in my closet to cry after a harsh word or a scary experience. As I sat in the dark, I'd pour out my broken pieces to God. I'd tell Him the situation and how I felt. I never had a voice with my natural father--I couldn't tell him how I felt or what I thought--but my Father God loved to hear me. I'd tell Him all the things I wished I could tell my dad. I'd revile the injustices I'd suffered and declare how "it's just not right!" I hated being little. I hated being powerless. I hated not having a voice. He understood my heart. I'd talk to Him for what felt like hours and I'd leave feeling comforted and affirmed by the time spent with Him in my hiding place.

I was let loose on a world I was not prepared for, at 17. I had learned the tools and skills needed to survive in my family, unfortunately they were inadequate to deal with life. I fell in love with the first man who loved me better than my father did. I gave him my entire heart, and then quickly realized I'd made a mistake. We weren't right for each other. We constantly crashed into each other as the reality that there could only be one powerful person in the relationship became apparent. We fought to keep each other's love, but all we did was wound each other. When my heart could take the pain no longer, I chose to walk away. It was the hardest decision I'd ever made and I never regretted it. It hurt like hell, though.

I took my broken heart to the only person I knew who treated it tenderly. Much of my heartache was my own fault. I knew better, and those closest to me had warned me. Many of them stood back with a "that's what you get" and "I told you so" attitude. Not God. He'd warned me about the relationship in the beginning and I'd ignored Him. But when I came to Him with the broken pieces, all He did was tell me how sorry He was that I was going through this pain. He let me pour out every ache, every unreasonable feeling, every regret, every shame. He loved me, in my mess, in my brokenness. He didn't lecture me. He didn't punish me for ignoring Him. He understood my heartache and cared about it. We walked through that season of life together. I couldn't have done it without Him.

I wish I could say after that I'd learned my lesson. Even though I knew God, I was broken in ways I hadn't realized yet. I longed for love. I longed for acceptance. I longed for a safe place. I longed for someone to peer into my soul and see who I really was. I wanted someone to really see me and to affirm the things inside of me that I saw. I was outwardly a strong woman, but inside a little girl waiting for someone to love and affirm me and tell me I was enough.

Enter Mr. Right. In his wake, I was left with more destruction than I'd ever suffered at the hands of my father. Together, God and I stitched together the pieces of my heart. It was a long, painful, meandering process. It was messy. It was not done perfectly. I still occasionally find crushed pieces left by him that I didn't realize were there.

While I was walking through my bloody, messy, healing process after Mr. Right, I met a new man. He was so different than anyone I'd ever loved before. He was passionate and honest and eager. I decided to just go for it, throw caution to the wind, and just jump into a relationship with him. I knew one thing, he was nothing like Mr. Right, and that was good enough for me.

Our official relationship lasted a total of one (1) day. I don't speak about this relationship often because it still feels like an extreme failure on my part. Had I been in a healthier place, I feel the relationship would have turned out quite differently. It ended very painfully for each of us. The aftermath was like navigating a minefield. Several months later, he took his own life.

I cannot tell you the depths of my pain at his death. There was no resolution. No real reason. No signs ahead of time. He was there and then he was gone. Nothing made sense. No one understood. I was not his love, his family, his girlfriend, and barely his friend. I will never know the part I played in the misery he felt. How do you heal after that? How do you move on from something that has no resolution? The pain from the loss made it hard to function.

And yet, God walked me through the loss, holding my hand the entire way. He was so tender towards me. I felt Him lie in bed with me as I cried. He listened as I poured out my pain, unpacking every broken piece. He and I sorted through them. He assured me that I would be ok and pain would not be my permanent resting place. He helped me find peace in the middle of chaos, loss, destruction, and not understanding why. We unpacked my mistakes and emotions. What drove me to choose that? What was behind my fears? What will I do differently so I don't find myself in the same place?

These are just a few of the great heartaches I've lived through.

I hate hurting. I hate pain. I hate loss, but I am not afraid of it. I know the incredible strength of my heart and the One who holds it. My heart was built to heal. It is strong. Sometimes, the breath will be knocked out of me. I get stunned, broken, and lost. But I know which way is up. I am not so shaken that I will never recover. I firmly believe there is nothing life, others, and my own mistakes can throw that we cannot handle together. It may take days, weeks, months, or years--but I will always heal. I will always be ok. He always loves me back to life.

So keep going. Keep fighting. You can do it. Pain is not your destiny. You will be ok. There is more for you than this. You don't have to live your whole life defined by this. God is there. He is there. He created your heart and He knows how to heal it. Let Him in. Talk to Him about it. Let Him touch the broken places. He is near the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. There is nothing more important to Him in this moment than loving you back to life. Let Him.

Ezekiel 16:6-14

"And then I came by. I saw you all miserable and bloody. Yes, I said to you, lying there helpless and filthy, “Live! Grow up like a plant in the field!” And you did. You grew up. You grew tall and matured as a woman, full-breasted, with flowing hair. But you were naked and vulnerable, fragile and exposed.

I came by again and saw you, saw that you were ready for love and a lover. I took care of you, dressed you and protected you. I promised you my love and entered the covenant of marriage with you. I, God, the Master, gave my word. You became mine. I gave you a good bath, washing off all that old blood, and anointed you with aromatic oils. I dressed you in a colorful gown and put leather sandals on your feet. I gave you linen blouses and a fashionable wardrobe of expensive clothing. I adorned you with jewelry: I placed bracelets on your wrists, fitted you out with a necklace, emerald rings, sapphire earrings, and a diamond tiara. You were provided with everything precious and beautiful: with exquisite clothes and elegant food, garnished with honey and oil. You were absolutely stunning. You were a queen! You became world-famous, a legendary beauty brought to perfection by my adornments. Decree of God, the Master."