That day crushed me. 

I walked through the doors of a coffee shop, the same chain where it happened 3 years ago, and the realization hit me. 

I’d only just begun to be able to breathe again and the reality of it washed over me like a cold, waking morning shower. 

It has taken me 3 years to recover. And even now, I don’t know if where I am standing is where I want to be. More has happened in those 3 years than I can really comprehend.

God has done so much work on my heart and has placed people in my life that have held and loved and encouraged me and who have reminded me who I am – who God has made me to be. 

Even though this group of people looks a little different than it did 3 years ago, they’ve each played a vital role in helping me rebuild the person I live with today. I don’t always like or recognize that person. I long for the carefree, confident, and engaging person I used to know. 

But, she is a person of the past, replaced by someone with hard-won knowledge and wisdom, with scars that still bleed when the drive from point A to point B is just a little longer than usual, or there is too much time away from the security of her people.

I know bit by bit, that person is being rebuilt by the loving, redeeming hands of her Creator, but still I grieve her. I wonder what might have looked different if an alternate path was chosen – if a kinder word was said, or a more gentle attitude was on display. I grieve her, but she is gone. Carefree and full of laughter has been replaced with timidity, trepidation, and abounding tears. 

The tears are less than they once were. Slowly the carefree and confident find their way back, but not without the weight of that experience and acquired with immense effort. I know I won’t ever be that same woman, and as I grieve her I trust in the unfailing redemptive love of my Savior as He gently washes away the tainted past from my heart, creating a new work of art more beautiful than before. Because that’s who He is and what He does.