He restores my Soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. 

Psalm 23:3 NASB

Seven months ago, I joined a study called Healing Journey. It was written by Cyndy Sherwood and run through Family Life Network. A mentor who’d taken the class advised me to reduce my schedule and responsibilities. The teacher challenged: “Be greedy for your healing!”

A fragile lily pressed through winter’s hard questions, frozen landscape, and rote prayers. Summer daises and dandelions entwined with new loss and hurt, celebrations and remembrances. My soul wept dry and then stone-cold. Healing required rest—a season to mourn, fast, and pray; and so, I stepped away from social media. And Jesus led me forward! 

No matter our brokenness, it’s important to identify the loss we’ve endured and our emotions that followed, ashen despair, creep of green sludge, and shame’s flood that forced us to hide, or else, erupt with fury. Our outlook may be clouded; but our feelings don’t lie. They just are! 

Our feelings are windows to our soul. They help us define and understand what has been hurt. Also, they reveal our humanity. Some are struck by numbness for decades, detached and hardened; and that is just the tip of the iceberg. But Jesus lives. So, our cold defense must fall. 

The lies are found in our beliefs and how we live. What we believe about God, His character and Word, and our relationship with Him and others must be re-framed with Truth. We are seen, known, and loved.

When I didn’t know how to begin again, God bridged the gap. A boy prayed for joy over his pancakes. It was a wise word for one so small. Then again, we’re told to come to God as a child. 

Later, my grandson dragged his feet around our pond with his walking stick and kicked the dry, dusty path without thought. I understood. My heart also hurt; and I was tired and listless. Meanwhile, his younger brother strayed into the high grass countless times and dared us to catch him with his mumbled gabs and giggles. They climbed the apple trees and swung from the low branches. Our routine was a chore until we began to walk the pond and collect nature’s treasure, the first maroon maple of Fall, an acorn head and hat, a Queen Anne’s doily, and a shiny, smooth rock. However, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His oldest brother was now in kindergarten. 

We’d both been thrown into a “sea of want.” The waves of the missing—we may miss a loved one who passed away or the brother who has left us. Or else, we miss the mark or golden opportunity. Sometimes, we simply miss the way we were, how we ran, worked, and feasted. Nevertheless, God is never in a hurry. He can heal our heart and hurts. 

Jesus was on His way to Jairus’ house to heal his twelve-year-old daughter when He paused to give heed to a frantic woman who chased Him down for one touch of His hem. Jesus noticed. Jesus cared. His power was accessible; and it’s at our fingertips. 

Jesus is never missing in our “missing.”  

My grandson and I donned gloves and weeded the flower garden side-by-side; and his brother kept us cool. Although, the roses and lavender were thirsty; he preferred to tease and spritz us. We turned a corner with joy and laughter; and restoration was fashioned in the family promise. 

God unites families,

Lily Mae

Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh; is anything too difficult for me? 

Jeremiah 32:27 NASB