It’s been over a year since I posted to this blog, and four years since I sat to write on an Easter weekend. I haven’t stopped writing completely, I simply didn’t feel I had much to say here. I am generally a fiercely private person; this blog has been the one exception. For those of you who have followed it, I have let you in to the hardest years of my life. You’ve walked alongside me as I learned hard lessons, mourned the loss of my marriage, struggled with my identity and self-worth, celebrated the miracle of my father’s health, and so much more. This blog was never intended to be a place for me to write my story. Instead, it was a platform for my family to talk about what it was like to live with a terminal diagnosis. Yet the timing of my dad’s diagnosis intertwined with the end of my marriage and I found it therapeutic to tell my story.
One of the hard parts about living in a town of less than 1000 people is that many times your story gets told for you, often at your expense. What I learned as I wrote during those years was that this blog allowed me to control how my story was told, and surprisingly I found people were receptive to it. They understood the pain, the hard decisions, the loss of a dream, and the frustration of floundering through life while people watched and judged. They supported me, they encouraged me, and many became fast friends.
It’s hard to believe it’s been four years since I wrote the only other post that mentions Easter. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago simultaneously. At the time, I had hope that my marriage would still be resurrected. A few months later the opposite happened instead. Since then, my life has been a series of ups and downs. You have walked them with me. It’s been a journey of self-discovery, of faith, of despair, of grief, of joy, of miracles, and of hope.
I have been silent for some time. Primarily that is attributed to the fact I always feel the need to write when my life is turned upside down. It helps me process. When I enter a period of calm, I find I generally have less to say.
I realized today though, that for those of you who have walked this journey with me, writing only when I struggle leaves you with a sad story which is not a complete representation of my life. Along the way, God has blessed me in many ways. He has gifted me with great friends, a fantastic job, opportunities to travel, time to reflect and sort through what He wants the next phase of my life to look like, and over time, He has slowly mended wounds and gently tended to my vulnerable heart.
And recently he surprised me with the greatest gift to date, a man who would heal what was left of my broken heart and resurrect love for me.
A year ago while I was on sabbatical I worked my way through an intense writing program designed to help me tell my story in a way that would uncover what I wanted for my future. As part of that exercise, I had to write about my ideal future in great detail, including what I wanted in my ideal mate going forward. At the time there was nothing I wanted to do less. Love had hurt me repeatedly for a five year period, I had no desire to go there or even open the door to dreaming. I vividly remember everything about the moment I came to that question, sitting on a balcony in Italy overlooking the coast.
There was a lot of hesitating, a lot of procrastinating, a lot of extra coffee poured, but in the end I was committed to the process and pressed on. To get through the exercise, I wrote what I believed was the most far-fetched, never in a million years would I find it description possible. My thought was if someone like that actually existed and crossed my path it would be the only circumstance under which I would even think of entering into a partnership of any kind again. I was exhausted. I was broken. And I was certain I was so damaged I was unlovable. So I answered the question almost in jest, simply to move on to the next part of the process.
But here’s the thing about God. It turns out he does listen. He has always been the quiet guide of my heart’s desire, whispering and urging me to put my desire into words and to trust Him. I did so reluctantly for no other reason than I had no other option. I had done all I could to stay healthy, to heal the broken pieces in my core, to right the wrongs I had done, to reconcile with anyone I had hurt along the way, and to emerge a better version of myself than I was. But none of it fully alleviated the pain. I was at the end of myself, exhausted and floundering as I tried to balance living an authentic life with guarding my hurting heart.
And then unexpectedly, nearly a year after I wrote those words and promptly forgot them, the greatest gift to date. A man who when I let my guard down, leaving my heart vulnerable and sending me into a panic, simply hugs me and tells me I’m safe, that he will protect my heart.
It had been 1,817 days since romantic love had brought me anything other than fear, pain, and anxiety. 1,817 days. But in one small instant, my heart recognized that the one I had written about on that balcony was actually physically standing in front of me. He wasn’t a mirage, he was real, and in one small instance when my guard was down, he had taken the last tender places in my heart and made them whole.
Life has only ever been predictable in that I know it will be a series of ups and downs. But now I also know that when God promises to work everything together for good, he means it. It doesn’t always look like what I think it will, it will rarely happen on my timeline, but if I’m willing to surrender to Him and trust in His promise, I may one day find someone unexpected standing in front of me perfectly tailored by God just for me.
As I enter into Good Friday and a period of reflection about the Easter holiday and the resurrection, I realize four years later, that’s what I finally feel. That my hurting and broken heart has been resurrected by the love of my faithful God and this beautiful man. Resurrection really is possible and my heart is proof. I have finally reached the light at the end tunnel, the happy ending to my story.
I am blessed.
-Sara
Sara,
Thank you for sharing. I’m inspired, You Deserve This Happiness. Love You.
Always wishing love and happiness for you Sewall. This is beautifully written and my heart is warmed seeing the end of one journey and the beginning of this new and wonderful adventure. Hugs to you! Love you!
Lovely writing dear friend. Wishing you and your family the best journey in life. ‘Berta
Sara,
What a wonderful Good Friday message. Your journey of 1,800 some days reminds me of the 39 hours between the crucifixtion and resurrection. The sorrow and loss seems endless and final until it isn’t. The rock is rolled away and the morning dawns. God bless you and your marvelous mister……
I love you Sara and your writing filled my with joy! Aunt Jill
Sarah,
We are overjoyed with your wonderful news! YIPPEEE!!! We will pray that this leads to marriage and a wonderful life for both of you.
Love-S&K