~Mary Frances Writing~: February 2010

Shattered. Seperated. Crushed. Smashed. Ragged. Uneven. Tattered. Like an old forgotten teddy bear that had lost all its stuffing, thats how I felt. On the outside, I apeared the same, but on the inside I was different. Broken. Even though it had been over a year and a half since my big break-up, I still felt heart broken. I really couldn't understand why I still felt this way. I didn't even want to be with him anymore. I had liked a million guys since then and yet I couldn't deny the fact that there was a sadness inside my heart. For two years he had been my best friend. We talked every night before I went to bed. I had shared all my hopes and dreams with him. No matter how hard I tried to push that feeling away, it remained intact. I still had a broken heart. I didn't think I would ever be the same again!

Several months after the break up, I found myself starting an outreach with an African refugee community. Even though I had become very passionate about what I was now doing, it didn't take away the sad feeling inside my heart. There was still many nights that I cried myself to sleep. I remember l feeling so upset. I just wanted to "get over it" but I couldn't. I called my pastor one day, crying, asking him for advice. He listened to me as I sobbed to him on the phone. Then he gave me some very simple words of wisdom. He told me to just get on with my life. He said that I had already been doing a good job with that, especially, with the African children and that I should just keep doing what I was doing. He said to just let that be my testimony. Despite the compliment, his advice really wasn't what I wanted hear. However, I did take it heart and I continued on with my life.

I stayed involved with my church. I emerged myself into outreach and teaching Wednesday night bible class. I had good times with my family. I had fun with my friends and went to as many youth activities as possible. Slowly I began to let things go. One by one I said good bye to the things he had given me. The hardest to let go of was this one soft, white teddy bear dressed like a cowboy, but finally I gave it to one of the little African boys. I continued going through stuff. I pulled out wedding decorations and donated them to my friend's baby shower and some more stuff for our ladies tea. As I went through more stuff, I pulled out the wedding dress. The layers and layers of white tulle piled up on the ground. "I should get rid of this!" I said to my sister, "I don't need it anymore!" "Well you could just save it," said my sister, "for one day when you do get married." I looked at it again, "Naw," I said, it doesn't really seem nearly as pretty as it used too." So we packed it up and dropped it off at the Saver's down the street from our house.

Then one day while I was at work, one of my friends texted me some dreadful news about him- he had a girlfriend. I sat there and cried and cried and cried. That day when I came home from work I was ready to tell my family. I'll never forget the OBNOXIOUS whoops of joy from my brothers when they heard this news. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but smile, I knew it was only because they loved me and wanted to see me move on. I went to my room and pulled out my scrapbook of us together. I brought it out to my mom who sitting at our kitchen table, "I guess maybe I should get rid of this now," I said. She agreed that it was time. My brother's were ready to build a bonfire in the backyard to throw it in, but my mom said NO! Then she just sat there and gently pulled each picture of us off the pages. As she did this she talked to me...

"You know Mary, she said, "Sometimes people's feelings just change. She explained that love and relationships can be a very complicated thing to figure out. We think we know what we want, but then you aren't sure or you change your mind. She said that his breaking up with me didn't mean that he was a bad person. Sometimes these things just happen. Then she told me about a time before she was married to my dad. She was dating a really nice man. She said he was really smart and very kind-hearted. He wanted to marry her, but she said she just didn't love him like that. And even though she didn't want to hurt him, she broke up with him. There was something about hearing it from my mom, knowing that she had to do the same thing to someone, as what my boyfriend had done to me, made me realize that he really wasn't a bad person. We just weren't right for each other, but still it HURT!

Finally it was a year and seven months since our break up. It was the end of 2007 and it was time for the Conqueror's Conference youth convention our church always goes to in Tuscon Arizona. I wasn't sure if i really even wanted to go. By this time, his girlfriend had become his finance and I knew they would be there together. I a part of me really wanted to stay home, but I knew that wouldn't be the best way for me to continue getting on with my life as my pastor had advised. So I went, bringing two of the African girls with me.

I remember seeing them together was a little weird and akward, but it didn't really bother me like I had thought it would. However, I still had a broken heart. It's hard to explain but I just felt betrayed. A promise had been broken and I felt like something inside of me had been lost. I remember a preacher got up, and he was talking about healing. He said there were people at the conference with physical ailments in their bodies and that God wanted to heal them. I remember at first just thinking ok whatever, I'm fine and I just kinda sat there in my pew. As I sat there I began to think, I said, "God there is nothing wrong physically in my body, but I am so sick of feeling hurt the way I do. Could you please heal my broken heart? I don't remember feeling anything instantly. It was just a simple prayer and then I went on with the conference.

I entered 2008 refreshed and renewed. I began making all kinds of new friends and really started just enjoying being a young person again. All of the sudden one day I realized, I was OVER IT! I didn't feel the hurt anymore and I had no desire to even try and get him back. In fact I was even enjoying my life so much I was even glad that it had all happened. "Hey Theresa! i said to my sister. "Guess what?! i am OVER IT!" She just kinda looked at me and said, "are you sure?" I said, "yes! Absolutley positivley without a doubt in my mind, I am OVER it!" She said "Well it's ABOUT TIME!"

At the end of the year our church ladies have a cookie and gift exchange. Sis. Abbott had us all sitting in a circle and we were going to go around and when it was our turn we were supposed to say what God had done for us that year. When it was my turn I said that this year God had healed my broken heart. I said that I don't what happened but things were just different. It felt like something inside of me had just blossomed and I began meeting so many people, developing new friendships. I started taking extra care with how I looked, just for the fun of looking good. I started writing again and I felt my life beginning to flourish. I said, "I just feel so happy!"

My friend Jacqui says that a wound and a scar are a lot alike. They both come from hurt and pain and they both tell a story of something that happened. The difference between the two is healing. I hear a friend at my church singing a song called, I Believe In Miracles. I know that what my friend has been through is a million times worse than my heartache. So I can't help but stand up to worship when he gets to the part, "He healed my broken heart, he dried those tears from my eyes..." Because thats what Jesus did for me. When I was hurting, I didn't think I would ever be the same again. The truth is, I'm still not the same, but I am better. Because in the place of the wound on my heart is a scar. A scar that tells the story of how Jesus can heal a broken heart.