where I’m being healed one piece at a time…

Monday, October 1, 2012

I don’t think I was aware there were so many broken pieces of me until some of them began to heal. I’ve been walking around, fragments barely held together, waiting, without even knowing it, to be whole. I’ve been lonely and frustrated, angry and confused, tired and ready to quit. In a thousand small ways, in a few big ways, I am being put back together, piece by piece. Every healing place, a gift.

It’s pure grace when I see my two-year-old daughter stroke the side of my eleven-year-old’s angry, tear-filled face, look into his eyes and give comfort.

On a regular Sunday morning, we have a corporate time of prayer and ministry towards the beginning of the worship service; we never even get to the sermon. We are priests, each of us, all together, all a part of healing one another’s brokenness.

A new friend, our lives bound together by circumstances we never expected, calls, and we encourage one another…and a small, discouraged piece of me is healed.

Our mamas group from church, the one I pleaded and prayed for, is the first place one of us goes when she’s hospitalized and in need. A lonely piece of my heart is made whole.

It’s a tiny piece of healing when I wake up in the morning to see all of my hair still on my head after yet another nightmare about all of it falling out. (My thyroid condition makes me lose hair by the handfuls when it’s not under control. and it hasn’t been under control.)

I spend each day in prayer for my sweetest friend who is battling a painful, degenerative disease. Somehow, strangely, a piece of me is healed in the process of my prayers for her healing.

A friend calls when her marriage is broken; she’s moving out, and even though she’s only ever attended one Sunday morning at our church, she considers it her own and asks to be put on the prayer list. All of the time we’ve spent with them, the time that several young men from the youth group spent time helping her move to a new house, the time my children spend with her daughter – it seems like nothing in her life is improving, but then I remember that she called us…and a piece of me is healed.

I find a photo on my husband’s phone that he secretly took of an object I said I liked when we were on vacation. I know he did it so he could remember exactly what it is that I love. That fragment of me that feels unloved and misunderstood heals with just one picture.

I chase a giggling, toddling baby around the living room. That tired, confused, am-I-doing-the-right-thing piece of me heals a bit with every smile.

Our five-year-old little boy gets up in the middle of the night, and instead of roaming the house alone, he now comes to us to tell us he’s hungry and needs a snack…and a great, great, big piece of me is healed.

The angry pieces seem more than ever lately, and after a day where I failed more than I succeeded with my children, my friend sends home a bouquet leftover from the wedding she just finished. She had no way of knowing what the cheer of fresh, beautiful flowers would do for me that day, but the angry pieces smooth over and heal a bit.

These broken, hurt, betrayed, grieving bits of my life are being pieced back together again. Wholeness coming day by day, all of it sheer gift.

Today, I want to know – what are the things that are healing you?


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