What happens after heartbreak?

I have been heartbroken lately. For a lot of reasons. And sort of, in every area of my life. It is a sure sign that God thinks I am stronger than I think I am, because I have experienced loss and debilitating challenge in work, family, health, friendship, on and on. But God knew I could handle it when I didn't.

A sure sign of my heartbreak lately has been watching my food demon resurface. If I trace back the times in my life that I have let food be my comfort, my companion, my escape, my drug...I could write a book. And maybe I still will. But the point is this: it's what we do after heartbreak that matters most.

When there's a bump in the road, I can deal with it pretty well. But when someone takes dynamite and decides to blow the road up and all of the optional detours, well that's when my life scares me. And life has been scary.

And so it was a challenging summer, which is as detailed as I can get in a public blog. But I hope you understand how heavy my heart is as I write that sentence. I did give up on myself for a while there. I know this, because I allowed that demon to comfort me, to be my companion, to give me escape, and to numb my pain.

My new safe place. It's perfect, because
Ben and Jerry can't fit on the bike.

As silly as it sounds, it was the throwing away of that box of food (see my last post) that turned me back around. At the time, it was an impossible request. But I couldn't see the way out. You see, when you do one little thing wrong, the next thing doesn't seem so bad. And then that next thing is a little MORE wrong, but you don't notice it because you're already in it. But before you know it, you're in so deep that you can't imagine turning anything around. It truly seems impossible.

If that's not addiction, I don't know what is.

And so God used my trainer to wake me up. And God has used a few friends to wake me up. And God has allowed some serious pain to all but consume my life over the past few months. But God knows that I am stronger.

I used this in a talk for work once, and I am living it as my reality right now:

There is an ancient Japanese art form called Kinsugi, in which the artist takes beautiful pottery and deliberately breaks it. He then puts the pottery back together again, filling the cracks with gold. The result was that the finished piece of mended pottery became much more valuable than if it was never broken at all.

We are all broken people. And it's what happens after the heartbreak that matters the most. So we have to get back on the horse, or for me, the spin bike. And we have to be able to see the beauty in our broken pieces.

Right?

-Liz