He’s stitching my heart back together.

The One who created me to be strong and beautiful and joyful and whole. He’s taking the jagged edges of my heart and piecing them into new, holy mosaic.

I knew He would. I clung to His promises from the muddy pits of self-hatred and despair and confusion and life-ending thoughts.

Creator gave me someone beautiful to show me His love and when humanity tried to blind and blur my helpmate, the God of the universe gently gave his heart to the man who could hold me close and speak “You are safe” into my brokenness.

A childhood of ridicule and cutting down and shame and silencing, a decade of holding onto that silence, over-shadowed in a moment of grace. In the form of a flannel-wearing, bearded, blue-eyed optimist who tells too many dad jokes and eats too much pizza, the Man of Sorrows wrapped his arms around me and poured grace into the crevices of my heart.

It’s not over. I know. So I will swim in this healing moment and record it and remember it and hold tight to it through the next time the cold fingers of fear and doubt and despair claw at me. It’s a glimpse into wholeness.