Dehiscence

I have been longing to write on this blog for months. I think about it all the time. But I haven't been able to find words to say. I just have all of these feelings, but I don't have any nice story, or photo, or verse to go along with them in order to help describe them; just unripe feelings.

I was talking with my dear roommate Ursula the other night (or maybe it was day, I loose track) about how I was feeling sad about Marshall stuff again. And she said that she didn't think things are resolved with me. Then a few nights later we talked for hours about the day of the accident and the aftermath. I shared my story, Derek his, and Ursula hers. Everyone has a different story to tell. Where they were when they got the call. What they felt. What they did. How they grieved.

Dedicated men and women of faith say that the hardest times in life were also the best because they brought them closer to God and/or to loved ones. The couples who struggle with infertility talk about how their marriage grew stronger because they had to rely on each other and give it up to God continually. The singles who hurt from broken relationships speak of the wonderful healing God has brought them. The missionary who waited for 5 years before seeing the first fruit declares that God did a great work in him during that time. These are amazing stories and testiments of the work of God. But then I ask myself, why is it that the biggest, hardest, most hurtful and tragic thing that has ever happened to me has not left me feeling closer to God at all? Instead I feel simply numb. I wouldn't say distant from God - I feel like I kept the communication open - but just not as connected as I would expect after such a tragedy.

Dehiscence has two meanings:

One is the gapping or rupture of a wound, like when the two sides won't heal together.
But another is the splitting or bursting of a seed to yield fruit.

Perhaps I feel both at the same time. My heart has been ripped open and won't close up. Somestimes it pretends like it is healed, but then it gets bumped by the very slightest corner and falls all open and bleeding again. But perhaps this will keep happening until it bursts to bear fruit, to yeild some sort of good thing in the mess. God, where is the healing that comes after the wound? There is a scab and it comes off and bleeds but just scabs right back over again. Isn't there something I need to "work through"? What have I learned from Marshall's death? How have I grown closer to You, Lord? Make me understand! Give me some sort of retribution, conclusion, resolution, anything. Do I need to dig deeper, Lord, in order for You to heal me? What am I withholding?

Oh, perhaps I just need to be patient. Perhaps I am rushing the process. I know that there will never be complete healing until Christ Jesus returns for us and rescues us from everything. And then He will "make all things new." I wonder if a new heart comes with my new body. Will I remember all the hurt? Is remembering painful?

Heidi