One year ago, with Valentine’s Day looming and the worst news of our life a few weeks behind us, all I could focus on was the heart. People were decorating with hearts all around, living this normal life, and all I could think of was that my baby had a broken heart – literally. This child growing inside of me had a heart that was a terrible kind of broken – one that couldn’t be fixed. And it was every where. And it was always on my mind.
This year looks different. I see hearts all around this year and I remember our sweet baby G. And I also see hope. Our sweet G has a healed heart now. He has been made whole and he no longer has a broken heart. This year I even find myself putting up hearts, wanting to celebrate this day. It’s amazing the difference when you don’t have a broken heart anymore. And while my heart might just always be a little bit broken because I lost a child, I can also see the hope that comes with healing. The hope that comes when you’ve celebrated hard days, held on tight, and are maybe just a little bit better for it. The hope that comes when you see some more joy alongside the pain. The hope that sits on each little construction paper heart – because you know each one of those represents something greater – love.
As I reflect on a lot of heart issues of my own this week, I am reminded of my brokenness, my broken heart, but also just how much I have been healed. Thankful for a week of reminders and the blessing of seeing healing in our lives.