I’m struck today by the concept of healing and the many ways we struggle and stumble toward the hope of finally being free. There’s a carrot dangling in front of us that we cannot fully see, and we pray it’s not just a figment of our imagination — or worse, false hope. Some days you can almost make out the outline of that promise of healing, and other days you’re convinced it’s simply a cruel torment that will never be reached.
As I was reading Psalm 22 this morning, I was reminded repeatedly in my devotional that this was the Psalm Jesus quoted on the cross. In fact, it has often been called “The Psalm of the Cross.” I admit I am no theologian, and there are certainly layers and meanings I do not fully understand, but I was struck by the fact that in the midst of unimaginable suffering, Jesus chose this Psalm.
So many times we read the Psalms from a distance, without truly taking to heart what the author is experiencing. Yet within the reflection and recitation of this Psalm is a reminder that even Jesus, enduring the ultimate pain and grief, chose to anchor Himself in truth beyond His suffering. He immersed Himself in the words already given, and through that we are reminded to teach our own hearts as well. What a precious gift and resource that is.
I believe that as we pursue that elusive carrot of healing, there are many different paths toward it, and no single path fits everyone. I certainly explored many different avenues in my own pursuit of healing. Some were helpful, and some were not.
One of the greatest helps for me was lamenting through the Psalms. I know I’ve spoken about this before, but I cannot overstate how valuable that practice became for me. I am deeply grateful for the reminder of just how precious those words can be in suffering.
However, there was one path I intentionally abstained from: seeking solace and empathy online, particularly through social media. For me, much of that decision was rooted in fear. I think I was afraid that speaking the betrayal aloud too widely would somehow make it even more real.
I had already confided in close friends and family and sought comfort and support through them. I thank God for their prayers, wisdom, and counsel. I fully believe He worked through them as He walked me toward healing. They were invaluable to me.
But I was always hesitant to expand beyond that circle. In hindsight, I’m thankful for that hesitation. Perhaps it was God’s way of protecting me from what He knew could eventually become harmful to my healing.
Let me say again that no one path is right for everyone. While I chose to avoid many of those online spaces during my healing journey, they may genuinely help someone else. There is absolutely no judgment in that. As I’ve begun trying to help others, I can clearly see that some people have no support system around them and are desperately searching for empathy, understanding, and hope. I completely understand that, and I sincerely pray those spaces provide comfort for them.
But I have also seen bitterness take root and spread like fire through a dry forest. After betrayal, bitterness is already waiting at the door of your heart, and sometimes it needs only the smallest whisper of encouragement to rage uncontrollably.
So these are my thoughts: as you navigate your own path toward healing, be careful what surrounds you. It is incredibly easy to stumble and fall. Empathy can be a tremendous comfort, but too much of the wrong kind can slowly drown you beneath its weight.
Like anything else in your healing journey, continually evaluate what is helping you move forward. If something once helped but no longer does, let it go. If you are unsure whether something is helping, seek out healthier paths. There are so many avenues toward healing. Don’t become trapped in one place, and don’t allow anything to destroy the progress you’ve already made.
