Recovery is not a brick thrown in my face. Recovery is not an attack to be weathered and then forgotten. Recovery is not a storm in the endless waves of life that flings its weary travelers into the deep. Recovery is not a mystery that cannot be solved, meant to puzzle and confound its readers. Recovery is not a knife in the back, twisting and turning to inflict as much pain as it can. Recovery is not a hammer, smashing my dreams to forlorn pieces lying on the dirty ground
Recovery is a road, a glorious journey revealed bit by bit. Recovery is the knowledge that God makes no mistakes. Recovery is the Creator picking me up and carrying me when I am too tired to walk. Recovery is the dawn, midday, sunset, the glimmer of the moon and stars, the assurance that light in some form is always in my sights if I look hard enough. Recovery is gently bandaging my wounded heart as it knits back together. Recovery is standing tall and shouting “I AM GOOD ENOUGH!” Recovery is the quiet and calm at the end of the day. It does not need to be filled with the frantic planning and pushing to fill a space that only Christ can heal.
Recovery is a gift, one that not all have the courage, tenacity, or drive to accept. In this moment, I cautiously extend my hand to touch this beautiful gift that I have been offered. I may fight the gift at times, but if I hold it closely in my grasp, no matter how painful that may be, I will always have recovery with me. Hope can never again elude me, for the light will always glimmer, whether it be far away or close enough to touch.