Is there a complete healing from such wounds as death and divorce? No. Not even as complete a healing as that that comes from a broken limb or amputation.
If you have lost a limb there is no complete healing. The limb never returns. Never. Yet with loving care and an adaptation to a prosthesis, you can move onto a profitable life. Adaptation is promising.
Is not the loss of a loved one much worse than the loss of a physical limb?
No, there is no complete healing, no restoration to a former wholeness. But there is the promise of adaptation. There is the promise of growth into a better person. Through inner expression and the resulting self-discovery there awaits a person of greater insight, worth, and strength. Through outer expression there awaits a greater social sensitivity. Through navigation of that treacherous Bay of Heartbrokenness there comes an experience of self that challenges your values. You are challenged to move higher or lower, to a weaker or more solid experience of heart and soul.
If to a higher and stronger sense of heart, there was a refining and forging that took place throughout the pain and endurance. If you would be successful, then along the way there will be a few exceptional family and friends who were open to all of you. They did not grow weary of your raging sea. They did not deny you your tears or your anger. They did not hurry you toward singleness, reconciliation, or into another relationship. They simply accepted and respected you as they did themselves . . . in all of your frailties.
The result was cleansing to the soul. A movement toward and beyond the Bridge of Finality.
The following poem was penned in a wistful moment of reflection.
Beyond the Black Oak Wood
Door
I once was in a desert feeling so low;
The reason for, I did not know.
Then I looked deep in another there to find,
It wasn't sight that eased the mind.
On the first level was a kind of white box;
Four corners square, without a lock.
It took a good second look to see into;
And rarely the sight made one blue.
The second level was most like a tall wall,
Almost never made known to all.
Always took effort to see over the top;
But once there, one didn't stop.
Once past the wall, level three was easily seen,
Flowing clearly just like a stream.
Here I saw the nest of all true desire;
Love and hate freely perspire.
On the edge of three, right before level four,
I saw a big black oak wood door.
It was strong as steel and without a twin,
Only opening from within.
Its strength was made solely by maturity,
Honed by threats to security.
Only two or four in a lifetime have come;
Pity the one to whom came none.
Opened from within, I saw something unique,
Something that everyone should seek.
The journey was hard and did require task,
As effort for a cold water flask.
Much more you'll find, deep down into level four,
Beyond the big black oak wood door.
There, one finds something he'll never need to fend;
A true, long lasting, faithful friend.
What is love? What love likes to tolerate rejection? Is it not the nature of love to want to share and give? Does not love relish in the strokes given from the loved one? What happens when love‑‑eternal‑‑is frustrated and restricted and rejected? What happens when a great love is given but there is no return of love? What happens to the heart and soul when great love is not only rejected but ridiculed, mocked, and abused?
When we love through rejection, then we approach the love of God. Somewhere in our loving through the rejection, we touch what God has been doing through the millenniums in His own steadfast love. What is it like to be God? Part of the answer to that question will come in the understanding of what is it like to be able to love beyond personal rejection.
True love endures.
We could go on forever, like the artists and musicians have done and will continue to do. In between the lines of these scribblings, behind this tidbit that is before you, there lies the indescribable. This was just my attempt at expression. It is still inadequate. What I could not express I have found in other artists.
Though universal, the uniqueness of each great loss has the potential to contribute to the ever-growing understanding of love. That is, when you usurp your courage and express your journey, all of us are the ones who will profit.
There is hope. Regardless of wherever you may be, there is faith. But the greatest of these is love. The highest call of any man or woman in any great tragedy is to be able to move into a higher level of living and loving. For the only way to move beyond the Bridge of Finality and healthily survive any great loss is to love above and beyond the offense. Like God.
And it is so characteristic of God that He most often works through some special family member or friend. For where there is a perfected love, or the approach, there is no or little fear. To the extent that fear is minimized, to that same extent there is openness and acceptance, and therefore adaptation and growth.
What a special place is the home.