I cannot count the times I have heard it. “Time heals all wounds”. At first, I wanted to believe it. To hope that all I need do is wait for it to pass and the pain to cease. I have learned otherwise. Time does not heal. Indeed it cannot because it has no power to do so. There is no healing force in Time, no ability to re-infuse life into something dying, or restore light in the darkness. It cannot mend the broken or re-mold the shattered. And why? Because time is an empty space. One that only we can fill. For what marks the passage of Time, but our memories of the past or our hopes and dreams of the future? Time cannot forget; it cannot erase. Not unless we do, because it is filled with our own memories. It has no power of it’s own. None, but to force us to move ahead.
I ponder this today because today is one of those painful markings of time. One year ago, I sat with my husband in a doctor’s treatment room and received the horrifying news that our baby was gone. My body had not registered my baby’s death. There had been no indications that I had missed a miscarriage. Just the shocking revelation that no heartbeat could be found at my first prenatal appointment. Crushing. Heart rending. Shattered into countless pieces. Grief. Those are only a few ways to describe how I felt in that moment and the days that followed. Time passed. I became angry. Furiously so. To the point that I scared myself. Meanwhile, Time simply shoved me along, leaving Tayten Shalom – my beautiful happiness – behind in it’s wake.
Fast forward several months and I was unexpectedly expecting again. The dread of facing Tayten’s empty due date was suddenly eclipsed by the joy of this new life. I would have a child to hold. Heading once again to my first prenatal appointment. Elated that this time around would be different. The preliminary questions were answered. Then the Doppler came out. And searched for that telltale sound of life, like the rhythmic rushing of water. Searched and came up empty. Confirmed with an ultrasound, it was déjà vu all over again. Another missed miscarriage. Another child slipped away. So silently that I was not even given a chance to say good bye.
Time marked another memory that day. A date that converges on today. Today would have been that precious little one’s due date. Lael Grace – belonging to God– should have been cradled in my arms today. But instead she is held in His. She should have opened her beautiful eyes and looked right into my overflowing heart. But instead, she left her name carved on my broken one. Should have been my rainbow baby, but instead became my angel. Should have been so many things that now will never be. The moments we shared too brief. Leaving me longing to go back. To relive each fleeting second once again. But Time will not allow it. Because Time, with it’s rigid rules of forward motion must advance and we are swept along.
Now Time has brought me here. To a place of reflection. Remembering. Aching. 365 days of Time have passed. Two treasured loved ones gone. Yet, Time has not healed me. Feeling the heaviness of each day counted, like a cumbersome burden. Asking myself “When?” at the revolution of every 24 hours. Applying the pressure to be “past” it all somehow. After all, hasn’t enough time passed? Shouldn’t I be more healed than I am? I have wrestled with the self-recrimination; with trying to reconcile the imposing idea that if enough Time has gone by, I should not feel what I do. Wrestled and concluded that too often, we swallow this lie and instead of bringing the healing we try so hard to force, we only widen the edges of our wounds. Despairing when it becomes apparent that Time has failed us.
Yet, Time is not without it’s own merit. Time, by nature, encourages us to take another step. It affords the distance, the space, we need from painful things. It offers to diminish the memory by moving us away from the place of injury. It provides the framework within which to build the future, to find the healing that we seek. And seek it we must, in order to find it. It does not just happen on its own. We decide whether or not to cling to the past, grasping at what Time has left behind; whether to allow a scar to form or to let the wounds fester and devour. To allow the past to either shape us for good or poison our future. And when we set our heart to seeking, that’s when Truth whispers softly and stirs our injured spirits.
Time may not be a healer, but I know Someone who is. Only the One who exists outside of Time has the power to heal. For Him there is no past, no future, only present. Only Now. Here. With You. Only the One who exists outside of time can know the end from the beginning. Can go back to the painful places and mend the broken, imbue with life what has died within you. And Time in the hands of the Healer, is a powerful thing.
So, I am coming to understand. It is not Time that has the power to heal, but the Creator of Time. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says that God makes everything beautiful in its time. Only He can create beauty from our ashes. Only He can transform our open wounds into scars – the beautiful road maps that tell of His redemption. Only He can bring the light of joy to illuminate our darkened hearts and clothe us with songs of praise in the places of our despair. But not in our time. In His Time. Because in His hands, Time becomes an instrument; a part of our journey to wholeness. If we let Him decide just how much time is needed, we stop trying to force the process. All that is required is our Surrender.
When we submit to the Healer’s hands, let His Love work it’s wonder, and give Him permission to restore – no matter what that process may look like – then He decides how much time is required for the mending. The pressure to conform to Time’s agenda for healing disappears and instead we find the freedom to Be. To stop pretending for the sake of Time. To stop living by someone else’s expectations. Assess where we are in reality. Permit ourselves to feel what needs to be felt. Be broken. Be honest. Be real. Surrender our own counting of days. And in the surrender we find that Time has been redeemed.
No, Time may not heal, but it is necessary in the process. So, we must allow ourselves the time to heal. Without restrictions. But don’t expect Time to complete the work. Only our Loving Father can do that. It is to Him that I entrust this day. And take one step forward.
“He has made everything beautiful and appropriate in its time. He has also planted eternity [a sense of divine purpose] in the human heart [a mysterious longing which nothing under the sun can satisfy, except God]—yet man cannot find out (comprehend, grasp) what God has done (His overall plan) from the beginning to the end.” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:11 (AMP)
“You were strong enough to survive the real trauma. You’re strong enough to let God bring you through the healing too.” #TheMercifulScar
*The image featured is a sketch that I completed in memory of Lael Grace shortly after my miscarriage. It is titled “CHAY”, which is Hebrew, meaning “alive”.
Of Shattered Things 