The crisis brought us to our knees. One knee on the floor, our souls asking if there was a way out. There was: God held us. Not with magic, but with a firm hand that showed us the next step when it seemed impossible. I look back without resentment. I haven't forgotten anything, because a restored heart doesn't erase history: it honors it. But I did forgive, and the wound stopped bleeding.

Healing means accepting the wound and working from there. It means naming what hurt, setting boundaries with what causes pain, and choosing habits that protect peace. It means asking for forgiveness, forgiving yourself, and building routines that prevent repeating the fall. It also means understanding that the scar is not shameful: it's the map of a good fight.

The difference between being heartbroken and mending your heart is courage, strength, and conviction. Conviction that God doesn't want us to give up or back down, but to face and fight with love and purpose. It's not about going back to who we were, but about growing into a more whole and free version of ourselves.

If you still feel like your knee is on the ground today, breathe. Get up. Do the small things you can and entrust the impossible to God. Peace doesn't come from forgetting, it comes from forgiving. And when peace dwells, life looks different: home is a refuge, love a covenant, and the future a runway for takeoff.

Verse
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3