“There’s no way around it:
Relationships are where we suffer our greatest wounds.
and relationships will be the salve that heals them.”
I saw the quote while scrolling through my Instagram feed. K. J. Ramsey’s caption following her quote made my heart ache and my emotions feel validated and understood.
This year has been an intense season of relational hurt and relational healing. Beautiful, healthy, love-filled relationships have been incredible catalysts toward healing the strained, broken relationships in my life.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I began to stand up. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I got to truly be myself. I didn’t have to filter or hyper analyze or ignore my needs. I got to be encouraged and loved and pointed to Jesus in such a way that gave me the courage and strength to rebuild the hurting relationships in my life.
It was a priceless treasure.
And now it is gone.
A month or two ago, one of the people who was one of my biggest supporters, who was someone who helped be the salve that God used to heal my heart, chose to cut off our friendship.
I write this, crying for the hundredth time, because it hurts. And I find KJ’s quote hits home yet again.
My counselor once asked me what motivated me in life. It took me a bit of rambling to figure out my answer. But when I landed on it, it was like a puzzle piece fitting into place. Relationships. Relationships are what motivate me. In my writing, in my fight for health, in the conference, in Young Life, in the way I choose to spend my time.
Because people are eternal. Everything else will fade away.
C. S. Lewis wrote in The Weight of Glory, “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”
Read that again.
Relationships are the most important things to me. But of course, like anything, relationships can become an idol. And when you love deeply, living in this fallen world, it’s likely you get hurt deeply. I think perhaps that allowing myself to be loved deeply was even more painful than loving deeply now that the relationship can never be the same.
And so I come back to that quote.
“There’s no way around it:
Relationships are where we suffer our greatest wounds.
and relationships will be the salve that heals them.”
This time, I’m a little more broken. The pain is deep and I never want to be hurt again. But as I pray and wrestle, I listen to the song Unbreakable Heart by JJ Heller, and I realize that locking myself away isn’t the right choice. I want a breakable heart.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” -C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves
I can’t magically protect myself and everyone else from pain. I can’t predict the future. I can’t stop myself and those I am in relationship with from being human. But I want a soft heart. I want a heart that is vulnerable and real and so breakable. I want to love deeply and to love deeply, I need a breakable heart.
Yet people fail. And God may use relationships and people as vessels, salves of healing, but relationships are where we suffer the greatest wounds. There is only one relationship where we can truly find healing.
There is only one person who will be there no matter what. Who won’t get overwhelmed by their own struggles in life. Who won’t abandon you out of busyness or miscommunication or fear or anger. Who will keep His word. Who can truly put salve on your broken and hurting heart. Who can truly see you. Who can satisfy those aching gashes and holes in your heart until you are bubbling over with joy.
God uses human relationships to heal us and grow us and help us know Him more. But He is the only one who won’t break our hearts all over again.
This is hard. There are still tears in my eyes as I type. I stopped three times while writing this to write letters to a friend who broke my heart. Letters that friend will never read. That probably no one will ever read.
I told God that I don’t get it. That I don’t want to keep fighting, that I’m not that resilient. Yet He nudged me, He is enough. He will be there. He is there now. When loneliness threatens to drown me.
There’s no way around it: relationships are where we suffer the deepest wounds . . . and where we find the salve that heals them.
