Close to the Broken Hearted
“I am just so discouraged that I am back in this place.” I found myself saying. Tears spilled down my face as the words tumbled out of my mouth. As I said the words, realization of how true they were came flooding in. I had been pushing on, pushing forward, despite feeling like my heart was sinking, sinking, sinking over the past six months.
“It is ok that you are back here, Heather. God is in this place with you. You have been here before and you will be out of it again. Every time you come back to this place, you will be able to navigate it a little better than before.” Matt paused, collecting his thoughts. “I want you to know that I am totally ok with you being in this place.”
“But I hate this place! It is exhausting and so heavy on the heart. My chest is heavy, my stomach is heavy. I don’t want to be here. I don’t know why I am here.” Exasperation was creeping in. I was irritated and frustrated that my grief and sadness had consumed my heart once more. “ It’s not like I thought I would never experience this deep sadness again, I just thought I wouldn’t be here this long again. The last time I was in this place, it was 6 years! I can’t do that again.” The tears soaked my face, soaked Matt’s shirt as he held me close.
“It’s ok.” Matt said and just let me cry. There were no words that would comfort my aching heart. I was crushed to realize that I was back in the pit, this place I had found sweet freedom from for about a year and a half. The relief of feeling like I was finally out had been unbelievable, like I had been given my life back, I could finally breathe again and laugh without sadness and live with my backpack of grief feeling light instead of full of cinder blocks weighing me down. I could dance and live with a lightness that only came from going through something incredibly difficult for a very long time and by the grace of God, coming out on the other side wanting to help others who may be in a similar situation whether it be an actual replica of our special needs life of just someone who could relate as grief feels the same, despite circumstances and there is a beautiful opportunity to connect with one another in that grief and with God if we allow ourselves to. When I knew I was out of the pit the first time I knew that I would have my sad days, I knew that this did not mean that my deep grief over our daughter’s situation was over. What parent can watch their child go through extreme hardship and think, “Oh, it’s fine.” No, I knew I would still have days where the sadness would find me and that was ok. But what I did not expect was for the sadness to once again consume me for days, which turned into weeks which had turned into months and now was on six months.
I could rationalize it and tell myself that all of us are having a hard time with all that we have been through with the pandemic. I could tell myself that living through this pandemic in Chicago has been drastically different and isolating than other parts of America with the extended mask mandates and vaccine passports and teachers refusing to come to school and unvaccinated children being required to quarantine if anyone in close proximity to their class got COVID. I could tell myself that being in any type of leadership position during the last 24 months has been insane and navigating territory that no one has ever dealt with all the while being expected to be an expert and lead through this as if leaders have been here before. This is no way for any of us to live. I could tell myself that the expectations I have of myself I would not put on anyone else…there is a lot I could tell myself.
All the things I could tell myself to rationalize why logically it makes sense that I am back here would not suffice. I had been free of this heavyweight called grief that was currently threatening to strangle my breath and leave me in the fetal position for the rest of the day.
Stepping back, I do know that I won’t be in this place forever. I do feel better equipped to be in the pit. I can hold onto all the words that encouraged my heart before. I can remember the words of my dear friend who said to me, “Heather, it was in the pit that Daniel learned that God was his protector. It was in the pit that Daniel learned that God was his provider. It was in the pit that Daniel learned that God was with him.” Those words will never stop bringing life to my heart.
Recently, a friend reached out saying I was on her heart and she just wanted to ask if I was having any suicidal thoughts. She knew of my darkest of dark times a few years ago when I was experiencing thoughts of how to end my life, thoughts that I know now were not from me, and thoughts that I was able to bring to the light very quickly to those closest to me. They had scared me and had made me realize what a desperate place I was in.
“I’ve had a few fleeting thoughts, but nothing that has stuck, nothing that has actually felt like a temptation.” I replied honestly. I was so grateful for the honest and concerned question, one that had to feel awkward to ask, but one that communicated so much love and care.
Her thoughtful question also helped me to see that I am not in the same place I was a few years ago. I was not in a good place, but I could celebrate that I was not having thoughts of taking my life and actually ruminating on them (insert awkward laughter.) That may seem silly, or trivial, but it was actually something that was helpful to me.
Maybe you are in a place where you never thought you would be emotionally. Maybe you are like me and a younger version of yourself would be described as lighthearted and easy going and full of laughter and now you feel way too serious and sad and sad-mad and anxious. I see you. I am you.
I want to remember that Jesus was a man of suffering. That he knew what it was to live with a heavy heart, to be turned against by those he loved the most, by those he gave his life to. His grief was the greatest. His stress so great that he sweated blood. He did no wrong, yet he knows what the pit is like better than anyone. I want to remember that because of Jesus I will be out of this pit again someday. It may not be today, or tomorrow, but because of Jesus I will be. And because of Jesus I can have joy and peace and strength in the midst of the pit. And on the days where I don’t, he is not wagging his finger at me like I wag it at myself, chiding me for feeling the way I feel. He is cheering me on, he cheers you on saying, “I know this is so hard. I am here. I see all of your tears, they are so precious to me. I am interceding for you. I am with you. This pit does not separate me from you, it only draws us closer. Lean into me. I know you don’t want to. I know you want to withdraw and hide and be angry. Bring all of that to me. I have experienced the most pain, the most grief, the most sadness so that I can comfort you in any situation that you will be in. And as you receive my comfort, you will then be able to comfort anyone in any situation because you have received my comfort.”
As I write these words I have a picture of someone laying in a dark pit, in the dirt, so exhausted, so thirsty, so sad, so angry, but something in their heart, that has been hardened by the deep pain they have experienced, begins to soften, just ever so slightly. I see Jesus, who is sitting in the dark with them, near them, gently take their head and lift it into his lap. And in the middle of all the pain and suffering and anger and sadness, something in that guarded heart shifts, just ever so slightly, becoming aware that Jesus is there, they are not alone, Jesus is with them. The sadness loosens its grip ever so slightly. They take a deep breath of the presence of Jesus and the tension loosens a little more. Jesus puts a hand on their shoulder and whispers, “ I am here with you. I will not leave you. I understand you. I understand what it is like to be in the pit. I am the one who breathes life into death, who raises the dead, who creates life from dry bones. I am the one who makes a way where you see no way. I am with you all the way.”
Wherever you are in your journey today, I hope and pray these words bring you comfort and peace. You are not alone.
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10
For the Lord your God is a merciful God. He will not leave you or destroy you or forget the covenant with your fathers that he swore to them. Deut 4:31
Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land…” Genesis 28:15
And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. Matthew 28:20
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 2 Cor 1:3-4
It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you…” Deut 31:8
Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16
