For weeks after returning home from Sri Lanka, one question keeps surfacing. "Lord... was it worth it?" It isn't really about my fractured wrist, or the surgery, or the panic, or the sleepless nights or the loss of my wedding and engagement rings. Those were simply the final chapter of a much longer story.
As we flew out of Sri Lanka, I felt as though I had been torn away before I was ready. There had been no proper goodbye and no sense of closure. As the plane lifted over the palm trees and lush green landscape, a message arrived from a dear friend. "In a few moments you will be off the shores of Sri Lanka. Thank you, my friends, for the investment in our lives. Only heaven will tell you the impact you've had."
Love was never meant to pour endlessly from a broken cup. Yet many of us have tried, exhausting ourselves, hoping our efforts would be enough to fill another, or to silence our own emptiness. But marriage, like all human relationships, was never meant to replace the love that only God can give. It is not a solution to our brokenness, but a sacred space where our brokenness is revealed, and redeemed.
Pain doesn’t just live in our thoughts or feelings; it settles into our bodies. Even when we think we’ve moved on, our bodies often carry the residue of what we’ve lived through.