Strong In the Broken Places

Last night I went out to get some dinner and do some shopping.  I was by myself, and I stopped in to Qdoba to get their nachos.  I often eat alone, and usually I will pick up food from a restaurant and take it home to eat.  But this time I dined in.  I got my food and sat down at a table to eat. 

It was a gorgeous summer evening, and the restaurant was practically empty.  I picked out a table in an empty section and sat down.  I was able to spend a few minutes in quiet, reflecting on life, eating my brown rice, black beans and pico de gallo with just a bit of queso.  It struck me that this was nice, even enjoyable .  I felt grateful for the life I have, sitting there on a beautiful summer evening, enjoying a delicious meal, having money to spend, being healthy.  A couple of years ago, I would have found this same situation very uncomfortable.  It would have seemed like a highlighting of my single status, and I would have felt conspicuous and pathetic.  But I realized I really did not have any of those feelings.  I was surprised at this discovery, and I thought to myself "strong in the broken places".  

Music is something I love, that really resonates with me.  Life needs a soundtrack, so I give it one.  I tend to fixate on a certain musician, or CD, and play that music over and over as I drive around in my car, and on my Shuffle when I walk.  My daughters might describe it as ad nauseum.  (If overexposure to Amy Grant, Petra and White Heart at a young age is dangerous, my girls are doomed.)  So hearing music often takes me back to a certain time in my life.  One of those songs from the dark days of my divorce, "Faith Enough" by Jars of Clay, assured me that:

It's just enough to be strong in the broken places...

But back then, I wondered if I would ever get there.  People told me how strong I was.  But I was not.  I was broken and scared and tired and hurting.  And I was sick of hearing how strong I was.

For me, healing from divorce is a very slow process.  I will never be the person I was before, and there will always be scars.  I have learned that I have a very, very hard time with letting go.  And my journey isn't over yet.  But God is using the therapeutic benefits of time and people with loving hearts and hands to heal me.  Bad moments still come, but they come much less often these days.  And they are usually just that -- moments.  I used to cry so much I must surely have suffered from chronic dehydration.  I rarely cry anymore. And often I find that I am content, and at peace.  And just plain happy.

So this is a message of hope, for those who are struggling to keep their mouth and nose above the water of despair just to breathe -- there is healing.  You will survive, and eventually, you will do more than that.  You will have moments where you realize that you are peaceful, content, and maybe even happy.  In time you will have days like that too.  You will heal.  And be strong again.  And it's enough.

From my heart,

Joni