“I think maybe I understand it now,” she whispered.” When it happened, I thought I’d lost everything I cared about. My dreams… my heart…was shattered into too many pieces to count, and I dared not dream again. And the painful days and nights that followed seemed so meaningless and hard then. But now…maybe now I understand a little bit of what it means that all things are beautiful in Your time.”

And here she paused, for though time and God can heal the most broken of hearts, sometimes there will still be little scars left to remind of the wounds that were there — and she was thinking of these little scars now…

“Sometimes our plans must fail so God’s plans for us may succeed.”

I’ve thought of this often over the years, and even with tears in my eyes and aches in my heart I’ve whispered it as I let go of the things I thought mattered most.

I’ve repeated it, knowing that His plans are always the best, and that His time is the only perfect time…

An old journal and a seat among the trees — these were a refuge for a heart that felt broken beyond repair, when the journey seemed too long and too difficult. Into those pages were poured all the pain and loneliness, the wind gently drying the tears that only the blue sky, the tall trees, and God knew fell so often. And yet, in those pages there was also written the records of the work of the Master Physician, the One Who heals heart break.

These words are some of the mileposts, some small windows into that journey in the valley of brokenness. It is my journey, but perhaps it is yours, too…