All posts filed under: Healing from Hurt

When It’s Just Too Hard to Pray

It’s time for some deep, down honesty about spiritual valleys. Because maybe you’ve been here, too. Or maybe you’re here right now. No need to raise your hand or walk the aisle. Just hugs and nods coming your way. I think I told you I just came off two bad, bad years. I mean, they weren’t totally bad. There were some amazing blessings: two new members of our family, a book published, new friends, a new church. I need to remember the good times, cling to them like the precious gifts that they are. But there was so much heartbreak. In fact, 2016 was the single worst year I have ever lived through. I had to list what I experienced for my counselor because I had blocked out most of it. I had to ask my husband, research my journal, and look back on the calendar. Every three to four weeks for an entire year I faced a major trial or life event. Like clockwork. It was horrifying to look at the timeline. And I’m talking about …

The Dark Valley My Child Walks

Each morning, my children and I begin our homeschooling day with Bible Time. Just 15 minutes of Scripture, a page of the Bible storybook, quick observations, and prayer. Nothing more, just gentle meditations. Curled up in recliners or rockers, or pressed up against one another on the sofa. Everyone buried under a blanket and The Book, the scented candle drawing their hearts upward. This year has been our twins’ first exposure to God’s Word. They are eating it up, demanding a second Bible storybook after finishing their first. They are disgusted when the Sunday School lesson is a story they already know. “Isn’t there something new?” they complain. So they move forward a page at a time in their Bible storybook, listening to the passage read in the Scriptures by older siblings then reading the children’s version in their picture book. The youngest two eagerly remind their siblings of “what just happened” and the parts they remember from the last book. The little scholars forget no detail of any tale, and no one can keep …

Taking Time to Heal

I have broken my left wrist twice. That’s exceptional, but to a musician, it’s notable. I  vividly recall the second time I broke it. For a preteen who took piano and violin seriously (and whose parents took it very seriously), it was a major event. I recall my doctor giving very specific directions how to care for my arm, what activities to avoid, and what exercises to do. Thanks to my doctor’s care, I knew how long it would take to heal and what healing should look like. So each day I knew what to do. I could see evidence I was going in the right direction. Time passed quickly, and I was soon whole again. Broken hearts hurt more than broken bones. No doctor tells us what to do the next day, what therapies will speed the healing and what milestones indicate progress. That makes grief, betrayal, loss, and loneliness seem that much heavier. One day the Tween Me trotted upstairs to get my headband, never dreaming I would be landing on my broken arm at the …

5 Surprising Reasons People Hurt Us

5 Surprising Reasons People Hurt Us

“Lord, Heal My Hurts“ prays Kay Arthur in the title of a book on the shelf beside me. I see that cover every day and nearly as often send that prayer to the heavens, pleading God will heal the gaping wounds and stiffening scabs on my own heart. Over the last two decades, I’ve experienced my fair share of hurts, most of them still too raw and personal to share publicly. I have been disowned, disavowed, slandered, scorned, humiliated, betrayed, criticized, condemned, lied about, and stolen from. All of them by Christians. Each time by a close friend or family member. You have been hurt, too. As isolating, painful, and unique as each situation, it isn’t anything new. Christ experienced these trials, as did each of the heroes of our faith. Your best friend has been hurt, and you likely see hurting brothers and sisters across the aisle at church. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. — Ps. 30:5 But when the perpetrator of these wounds is a friend, a family …