Scripture Prompt
New Rhythms for Restored Hearts
Healed hearts remain open to hurting people
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. (Psalm 147:3–4, NIV)
The entertainment industry is enriched by songs of brokenhearted people. Usually, the songs are about lost love. But we can break our hearts when we lose family and friends by death or estrangement. Sometimes, it is the betrayal of a trusted person, or the loss of our life’s work through bankruptcy or illness.
God prepared my heart
My heart was broken when Chris, my husband, had an accident while I was immobile from surgery. I could not accompany the ambulance, so I asked his best friend to support him. While I waited for news, God was already applying a tourniquet to my bleeding heart. Amidst the turmoil in my mind, these words claimed my attention:
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28, NIV)
Two hours later, when the sheriff returned to my home, he seemed relieved and surprised at my calmness. Seeing him again, I knew my husband had died, and God gave me the ability to make all the necessary calls. Fortunately, I never felt abandoned because the God who numbered and named the stars knew my name too. Someone from my wonderful church family replaced the nursing assistant until a replacement came the following day.
The cat started the process of healing
Those early days of sadness were spent in bed, my mind fuzzy from pain medication. Once the pain subsided, I felt numb. About a week later, the feral cat who had adopted my husband came to my room. His name was GPS because he always found his way to our house. He usually spent a lot of time with Chris on the bed but had been missing since his accident.
Now GPS looked intently at the empty place on the bed and started to cry. He cried so bitterly that, impulsively, I comforted him as I would a human being. I heard myself telling him that Chris was not coming back, not ever. Part of me couldn’t believe what I was saying to a cat, but as the cat and I cried loudly together, I passed a milestone. The numbness was replaced by anxiety.
I wish I could make a list like the stages of grief about God’s healing. I can only affirm that God healed my broken heart as I share my recovery with you.
My healing took time. Unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to drive for a while after Chris’s death. The nearest shop was a twelve-minute drive. It took me about a month to get there without crying because the driver’s presence reminded me of loss. Progress was measured in the time it took before the tears fell.
The gift of seeing him without disfigurement
A few weeks after Chris’s death, the coroner released his body. I seized the opportunity for a private farewell. Death erased decades of aging. Seeing him looking so handsome and peaceful, I kissed him before the mortuary technician could stop me. Amidst a torrent of tears, I spontaneously thanked him for all the ways he was a great husband to me.
His face was unmarked, and he was not disfigured. I had tortured myself with thoughts of him suffering terrible injuries. Seeing him whole lifted a burden that had almost crushed me. Months later, the coroner confirmed that he did not suffer. Freed from my misplaced anxiety about his injuries, I began to think of a life without him.
It was humbling to recognize the uncontrolled responses triggered by grief. Crying with a cat and talking loudly to a corpse might make great comedy unless you are the reality actor.
I needed God‘s comfort for the disruption of all my plans
Most mature adults survive the trauma of grief. Why then do I claim that God mended my heart? Well, I was at my most vulnerable when he died and shattered our shared future. His death also changed our plans for aging as I faced the prospect of being uprooted again.
After his recovery from three serious surgeries, we planned to visit the rainforests in South America, see the splendor of Kaieteur Falls, and enjoy worship at St George’s cathedral, the world’s tallest wooden cathedral. The trip was designed to cater to his wide interests.
Our personality and past experiences are reflected in our private response to heartache. Sometimes, I cheered myself up at the thought of God bottling my tears (Psalm 56:8). Did the angels help? I know they help with our prayers (Revelation 8:4). Outwardly, I functioned well. Privately, I kept praying for strength for another day. I clung to the promise that God is near to the brokenhearted. I felt that if He could number and name the stars, He could help me.
I specifically asked God to help me grow
I chose to invite God. Yet while God is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), I felt I had to make a choice to accept His comfort. I reminded God of the scripture that seeped into my spirit as my partner was dying: “All things work together for good to those who love God…” Then I concluded that for things to work out, He would need to heal my heart. I didn’t know how it would happen, but I made a “To-Do” list to keep going.
1. Remain positive, resisting self-pity. I did not want “widow” to become my primary identity. I believed that Solomon’s ancient observation on the value of cheerfulness was not overestimated (Proverbs17:22).
2. Maintain the routine. This included returning to all church and volunteer activities, as well as my exercise classes.
3. Seek medical help for my insomnia.
4. Engage in activities and interests that enrich my life.
This simple list helped, but I didn’t anticipate some challenges. The first church service I attended without him was almost unbearable.
After the service, at Coffee Hour, I joined the line for the first time to get some food. My supportive husband took pride in getting me a plate while I cleaned in the sacristy or chatted with the ladies. It had been a thoughtful gesture to reinforce his message that I was cherished. The small act of getting that plate of food symbolized the changes in my new life.
I resolved to cultivate a more grateful heart
During my marriage, there were several small affirmations to remind me of my husband’s love. I had taken them for granted. Without him, I reviewed what enriched my life. I thought of all the people within my network that made my life better. Now, I find time to let folks know they are appreciated. Saying “Thank you”, especially to family members, shows that we are paying attention and we value them.
Even in my spiritual life, I’ve often praised God for His help during a crisis, ignoring his interventions in keeping my days problem-free. Our God, who numbers the hairs on our head truly knows our needs and can anticipate them. Thanking Him for getting through a normal day is a good practice.
Unlike our earthly surgeons, the God who can mend my broken heart can show me the most amazing sunset to lift my spirit or prompt me to return home when I was needed. I’m learning to express thanks to God for the “small things”.
God uses brokenness to enlarge, not to maim
Decades ago, I was a Cruz counsellor who visited the widowed. Confident through my training, I thought I was empathetic and received positive feedback. Despite that training, the pain of bereavement caught me by surprise.
I knew the stages and directions of grief but had so much more to learn as I stumbled across the swamplands of loss. God’s healing of my broken heart was a promise kept. Even now He is still at work wiping away the odd tear or two. The following words comfort and motivate me:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by. ( 2 Corinthians 1:3–4, NIV)
God’s plan for my life was not disrupted. He just gave me a different assignment. My experience of brokenness can be used to comfort others through words, deeds or even silence. My heart beats with a better rhythm in the presence of grief to do God’s work.
