WHEN HEALING ISN’T WHAT YOU THINK

Sometimes it’s pouring your heart out and laying awake at night, but other times it’s Joey Speaks French and strawberry popsicles. I’m finding that healing isn’t always what you think it’s going to be. Yes, there are moments of deep grief, of immeasurable weight, and underlying fear. But also, there are moments of freedom, where the weight is lifted, where you catch yourself dancing around the kitchen and know you’re going to be okay again. Over time, the waves of grief crash less frequently and the freedom feels more like home + I think that’s healing. Each season of grief is different, because you’re different –but the light slowly, surely overtakes the darkness all the same.

On her podcast, Jen Hatmaker always closes by asking her guests the question “What is saving your life right now?” I want you to hear that the healing itself is always, only because of Jesus, but I also want to share some of the things that are healing me here:

She Reads Truth –I’ve always loved the girls at SRT, but never as much as I do right now. Their aim is Women in the Word of God every day, and I’ve watched them go after it faithfully for several years. I’m finishing up the Open your Bible study, and just started 1 + 2 Samuel. The most consistent advice I’ve received in this season has been read your bible. It might sound cliche, but it’s been my steadiest comfort, my surest help, and some days, the only to-do on my list. In a world of changing and crumbling and passing away, God’s word is permanent + that, for me, changes everything.

Whole30 + PiYo –I started Whole30 on the first of this month [I wrote a bit about it here], and have been chipping away at PiYo because it’s the first workout plan I’ve found that I don’t hate. In this season of finding a new normal, these two have helped me prioritize mental + physical health in ways that laying on the couch and surviving on pastries did not.

A New Space –I finally rid my wardrobe of the “I haven’t worn this in two years, but someday I might” pieces, cleared out the stuff collecting dust under my bed, and emptied the junk drawers. This is surprisingly healing. I finally found the right rug, stored my stuff in a way that works, and hung only things I adore on the walls. Waking up to morning light in a minimalist space is magic, and I’ve found that starting and ending my days in a simpler space sets a different and wonderful tone for my day.

Telling the Truth –“I don’t want to act like life is perfect, because it isn’t + I don’t want to act like life is over, because it isn’t.” This is the closest I’ve gotten to articulating my aim in communicating these days. The reality is that this summer has been a hard one, and not just for me. That these days are laced with hurts and disappointments and grief of all different kinds –but also with hope and promise and deeper roots. And how do you represent both well? At this point, I think you just tell the truth. The truth about God and about your present reality, and also about hope. Sometimes an honest account of where we are is all we have to give. When we tell the truth, we remember what’s true and we give others permission to do the same.

These things, along with old Jon Foreman songs, quiet mornings, good coffee, and my people have been making me well. Because it is well. The grief-waves will slow, the freedom will settle in, the Healer will show Himself again to be faithful. Because of Jesus, it cannot be but well.

Erin Quillen

Erin Quillen

I'm Erin. I’m a follower of Jesus, a twenty-something, a Pennsylvania-native, and a Bible College grad. I love words, discipleship, slow mornings, and Elisabeth Elliot books. I drift toward neutral colors, ten-minutes-late, and iced Americanos year-round, and I believe the Gospel changes everything.

View Full Profile →

Leave a Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s