As I continue to walk this Valley, my heart asks the question, “What does healing look like?”
Fewer tears? Check.
More laughter? Check.
Better able to function? Check.
I’m definitely not as fragile as I was in the days and weeks and first months after Dominic left us.
I can do what life requires without falling apart (most of the time).
If you run into me out and about, I make small talk and answer questions about my family without breaking down.
So, from the outside looking in it seems the gaping wound of loss has healed pretty well.
But if I lift the lid of my heart ever so slightly, I’m amazed at how much it still hurts. I’m astonished by the depth of pain and sorrow just under the facade of OK.
I cannot claim to have reached some higher plane of healing or restoration yet. I’m not sure I will this side of heaven.
And the pain of loss has tainted the joy I feel in what remains.
Instead of brilliant technicolor, my life is now lived in sepia tones that warn what joy I have could be stolen at any moment.
The lesson I’ve had stamped with fire on my heart is this: Love is the only thing that matters in the end.
So the path to healing means I lean in and love Him and love the people He has given me with everything I’ve got.
Because love endures forever.