My blog has remained silent for a while, not because I have nothing to post, on the contrary, posts seem to be bubbling up within me. But every time I concentrate enough to type, the one post that I do NOT want to write is the only one sitting at the tips of my fingers.

So here goes.

It is possible that just typing it will be enough for me. Maybe after I write it out I will be able to delete it and move on. Or maybe it will have to be published. I'm hoping that I can delete it.

For several years, Jeremy and I have struggled with a certain situation about which I want to remain vague. This struggle has shredded our hearts, leaving mangled pieces dangling, exposed to pain whenever the wind picks up. The struggle is now over, but somehow, during those years and especially during the extreme last few months, I erected a protective barrier in front of my heart.

The barrier was never intended to keep people out, just pain. It was a coping mechanism, to borrow a popular phrase; I thought it helped me stay close to the people while keeping the pain-level lower. I think I was wrong.

The only way to minimize pain is to hold the pain-causer at a distance. It's a bit like hugging a hand-grenade, knowing it will explode on you at any second. Minimizing the effects of the blast can only be achieved by running away before the explosion.

But what if -- and here's where the analogy doesn't work very well -- what if you love the hand-grenade? Running away from it is not an option. That dangerous explosion hurts not only you; it destroys the grenade. Jeremy and I would do anything to prevent the destruction of the grenade. Alright, enough with the analogy that no longer works!

All of that was really background information anyway. The point of this post, the subject I intended to address is this. God has brought Jeremy and I into a time of rest. He moved us to a land without connections, without expectations, without a past.

At first, neither of us realized how handicapped we had become. We continued to live inside shells without even knowing it, but slowly we began to see ourselves, to see some of the emotional withering and its affects. I, for example, no longer quickly develop relationships. I laugh at my daughter, Liberty, who stands on our patio and shouts, "HI, FRIEND! WANNA PLAY WITH ME?" to anyone passing, but the truth is, until a year ago, I used to be the one shouting and making immediate friends. Now, I meet people; I chat politely; I long for real friendship, but I hold myself at a distance. It's not fun being burned, and how can I tell who will burn me?

God knew how fragile our souls have become. He knew where we needed to be in order to begin healing. He moved us.

He moved us to a church that I cannot find words to describe. The people love. That is all that can be said. They reach out. They don't believe in just Sunday relationships. At this time when I am unable to reach out, God knew I needed someone who would reach out to me. So He brought us here.

Jeremy is hurting also, and his armor shows up in other areas of his life. Without going into any detail, I will let you know that God has also put him in the specific right spot to recover.

When I say recover, I do not mean that we will revert to the innocence of the way we lived before. No, we hope to grow, accepting the stains, still loving the reasons for the stains, but becoming more mature in our walk with God because of the stains. We do not want to remain in our protective armor. We want to have soft hearts. Hearts that know hurt is possible but that reach out and hug anyway.

It will take time, but our God is good. And He created time.
5 Responses
  1. Rachel Says:


    I think I understand. I've been there. I'm glad he's healing you, and I hope he'll continue to do so.

    *hugs and love"

  2. Beth Says:

    Dear Missy...I think of you often even though I haven't officially met you. I hope that you will heal and become stronger. I know you can! Thanks for your sweet comment about my friend Evelyn.

  3. Debbie F. Says:

    Forgive me for posting such a long comment, but this song immediately came to mind. I'm sure you've heard it before, but thought you might be encouraged by the lyrics.

    "Heal the Wound" - Point Of Grace

    I used to wish that I could rewrite history
    I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
    Then I could just pretend
    I never knew the me back then

    I used to pray that You would take this shame away
    Hide all the evidence of who I've been
    But it's the memory of
    The place You brought me from
    That keeps me on my knees
    And even though I'm free

    Heal the wound but leave the scar
    A reminder of how merciful You are
    I am broken, torn apart
    Take the pieces of this heart
    And heal the wound but leave the scar

    I have not lived a life that boasts of anything
    I don't take pride in what I bring
    But I'll build an altar with
    The rubble that You've found me in
    And every stone will sing
    Of what You can redeem

    Heal the wound but leave the scar
    A reminder of how merciful You are
    I am broken, torn apart
    Take the pieces of this heart
    And heal the wound but leave the scar

    Don't let me forget
    Everything You've done for me
    Don't let me forget
    The beauty in the suffering

    Heal the wound but leave the scar
    A reminder of how merciful You are
    I am broken, torn apart
    Take the pieces of this heart
    And heal the wound but leave the scar

  4. Annie Says:

    Hi Missy,
    "We want to have soft hearts. Hearts that know hurt is possible, but that reach out and hug anyway."
    Thanks for posting this. I'm not sure I've reached the point in my life where I can ask God to "heal the wound but leave the scar" as your friend posted .. I guess you know the painful events of the 90's. I'm only now starting to feel as if I am whole..ten years or more!
    Maybe this is just what it means to be an trust God the way we thought we would when we received Him.

  5. Suanna Says:

    I understand. I built a thick concrete wall, starting when I began college. That wall has began crumbling within the last year. I'm seeing a side of me that I thought was no longer there. It's good and bad at the same time. My emotions are like a roller coaster sometimes due to the chunks falling from the wall. I hope God will continue breaking my wall and restoring the real me, while giving me the grace to be who I should be.
    I'll pray the same for you.

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