She stood there, hand over her heart, bawling. She literally, physically hurt.
Isabella, our nine-year-old, is amazing with kids, both her age and younger. She loves them with her whole heart. Our niece, Ginny, who’s almost 2, is one of her best little buddies. When they’re together, she’s Isabella’s shadow. She constantly calls out for “Belba”! Every time they have to leave each other, they cry. This last time, however, was the worst. I watched my little girl cry hot tears, holding her heart, saying, “Mommy, I miss Ginny so much.”
Keith told her, “I know it hurts, baby. Try to do something to take your mind off of it until it gets better.”
Heartache is real. When we are nine, the anguish is different than when we’re 19, 39, or 59. We age, mature (hopefully), and prayerfully learn to handle it much better.
If you’ve lived more than 15 years, you probably understand heartache, heartbreak, and what a physically hurting heart feels like. The kind that hurts so much, you need to put pressure on your chest to tame the beat and soothe the pain. Everyone’s familiar with that.
The problem with social media, like Facebook, is that (especially if you post like I do), it gives people a false sense of intimacy. They know just enough about your life, routines, and schedules to think they know you. Though I’m very transparent, I’m also a private person. There are lines I don’t want to be crossed. I keep my margins and my space. Someone may follow me on social media and think my life is perfect. I do (very) occasionally post about a bad day or struggle, but I’m not a whiner. I don’t love to post about my imperfections, my battles, or how someone failed me, hurt my feelings, or wronged me. Guess what, though? It happens. I am SO imperfect, I fight battles, people fail me, hurt my feelings, and wrong me. I understand minor to super-major heartbreak.
While most everyone is intellectually honest enough to admit they know no one’s life is perfect, they tend to believe everyone else’s life is easier. That’s not true. Everyone has a story. Everyone has hurt. Even nine-year-olds can know heartache.
I know YOU have pain, and I’m praying for you. I take time to pray for my friends, family, blog readers, and followers. You are not just a number to me. Of course, I pray for my family and friends – that’s a given. But, every “friend” on Facebook, every “follower” on Instagram is someone I can connect with through prayer.
I may not know your stories, but I know you have them. I know you’re not nine years old, and the answer isn’t as simple as finding something to do to take your mind off your hurt. Yet, I also know the power of the Cross. Christ experienced hurt in every area of His life: physically, emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually. Why? So that you and I could overcome every pain we find ourselves in, and not only overcome but conquer!
I’m so thankful for a loving, heavenly Father who, “…heals the brokenhearted and binds up our wounds.” Ps. 147:3.
May our prayer be, Lord, I receive Your empowerment to not allow myself to be a victim. I embrace Your Holy Spirit’s enablement to let go and let You work in my heart. I refuse to be pitiful and choose to be powerful. I will not look at other’s lives and think of mine as less than. I will not compare. I ask for Your help in rejoicing when other’s succeed or find favor. I know their life isn’t perfect, it’s just their season for break-through. Mine will soon come, too! I want to be more aware of the current blessings in my life and less aware of what I lack. Help me, Lord, to not put unrealistic expectations on friends; help me handle it well when they put them on me (and I “fail”). I am healed, I am whole, with nothing to hide, nothing to lose, and nothing to prove. Help me to never look at others for my healing. Only You can heal my brokenness and bind my wounds. I release others and receive You. In Jesus’ name, amen!
