Skip to main content

If Time had the Authority to Heal

         One of the popular Facebook pages related to the grief of losing a child recently asked the question:

Does time heal all wounds?

The answer was an overwhelming and resounding "no" from the commenters. It was a feed of hurt and brokenness, and I ached for them all.

When was it decided that time, in fact, had the authority to heal?

I wonder if it was a concept brought on by the narrative of "its been long enough, your grief should be done"? Its something that is certainly said enough, often by people who simple cannot understand your grief (in whatever capacity it exists, for whatever reason).

It seems like something the grief community mistakingly adopted in order to try to control their own narrative surrounding grief. Admitting that "yes, I will one day be "healed" but I need time...more time."

Because, apparently, "time heals all wounds", didn't you know?

I firmly believe that losing a child, or any loved one, is actually not something that one can be, or even need to be, "healed" from.

Gasp and shock?!

Now, don't get me wrong, these events are filled with trauma (physical and emotional), bitterness, anger, and a myriad of other things that we can actually heal from.
But, this world was created to be finite. Which means, that death was in the plan. God knew where our world was heading prior to creation, He was no stranger to death, it was a natural consequence of our own actions, our own depravity.

The loss of a loved one is not something to "heal" from. There is not healing when something you love is removed from your life for the rest of your life.
To claim that we, in fact, heal from the loss, is to claim that we are made new again. And sorry, that's not how this world works, just wait until eternity, y'all .

They existed, they were loved, and they mattered. For however long, in whatever way. They changed us, and I, for one, would never choose to go back to the way I was before them.

I have been made better because Kimber lived in me, and then he died. I have still been made better, despite the fact that his life ended far earlier that I ever wanted. I don't want to ever go back to a time when he didn't exist.

Time is merely a collection of moments, with no authority in healing, and our loved ones are far more than mere moments. So, mere moments cannot take away their influence.

We were designed to endure loss, to embrace it, and to love in it.

Jesus has the authority to heal. To make our hearts continue to beat when their hearts stop. To bring the light again when we thought light wouldn't shine again.
In His infinite wisdom, He chose to make them matter. He chose to make love greater than death.

Death has indeed defeated time, but we must never forget the one who defeated death, even death on a cross.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Adoption Hurts

  "Is adopting her harder than you thought it would be?"      I think, when I weighed the options back in 2021, before I brought my 12 year old daughter home, I knew how hard it could be. I accepted that it could be brutal. But, honestly, I hoped it wouldn't be. I hoped maybe, just maybe, trauma hadn't sunk deep into her bones and colored everything she did.  Some people may have different perceptions on how prepared I was, since I did jump into it pretty quickly. But I think that I did acknowledge, and accept, how hard it could be. But the reality of life is that there is no real way to know how hard anything actually is until you're living it. Meaning, I knew how hard it could be...but had no idea what that level of hard would actually feel like.  Because it hurts. Raising a broken teenager hurts. It hurts my daughter. It hurts me. It hurts our relationship. It just hurts.  But just because something hurts...does that mean we aren't called to do ...

Through Him

  I was raised by a Christian father who, though far from perfect, loved his family. I had a front row seat to his relationship with my mother and loved being his daughter. Through him I learned that I wanted to find a man like him in all the best ways. I married my first and only boyfriend when I was 19 and spent 13 years growing up with him. Through him I learned that I was a valued (and treasured) partner and that life is unbelievably special when you adventure together...and when you love unconditionally. A doctor met me one time and performed a dozen tests on my body. He was unkind and judgmental and his indifference made me cry in shame. Through him I learned that I might not ever be able to have children. My only son was born after years of infertility. He never took a breath and his death took my entire life by storm. Through him I learned that joy and grief can exist side by side...even when, or especially when, it is hard to find the joy. My father-in-law loved two childr...

All is not Calm...

  If you look around my house this Christmas season you will definitely see the effects of motherhood here. You'll see school books strewn about all throughout the place. Constant reminders of frustration and fights that feel completely unnecessary to a mom and completely life-changing to a kid. I never wanted to homeschool my teenage daughter. I simply didn't want this kind of hard. But I saw her struggles and her self-esteem start to crack as she fell more and more behind her peers in school. A scar from her years of home-hopping which led to inconsistent schooling. A kid who got overlooked and pushed along anyway. So I pulled her out and we started from the ground up. And she's bright, let me tell you. She's catching up one day at a time, and I get a front row seat to see her shine. I push her more than she wants, and she hates when I do it. But I didn't become her mother because of what she could do for me...I became her mother because I knew what I could do for...