The sun shone warmly upon my chest as I sat on the back of my roan mare. My legs dangled at her sides while she grazed peacefully. Shining like a beacon, the bright spring sun radiated onto my skin. O how I wished the warmth could seep beneath my skin onto my spirit. Inside of my chest, a broken heart throbbed in agony. I had always thought crying over a boy was stupid and only something girly-girls did. The night before however, was the most painful night in my life. Tears had streamed down my face, soaking my pillow. I rolled over, attempting to muffle my sobs in the fabric. Scorching fire burned in my spirit, seeming to leave no hope. A physical pain shot through my chest as the thought of him leaving echoed in my mind. My young naive heart had been crushed and my heartache was more than I could bear.
I believe in heartache because it’s real. I experienced it first hand and the thing is,
I wouldn’t change a thing about it.
Heartache gives a person time to grow and learn. For me, my heartache helped me mature. It drew me back to the Lord, for I had to cling to him in order to heal completely. I would never replace this experience for I know that without my heartache, I wouldn’t be who I am today. People have asked me if there’s anything I were to change about my life. The truth is I wouldn’t change a thing. That was the most horrible pain, the burning flames that ate away at me. I also believe, though, that the sweetest things in this world today have come to us through tears and pain. I am much more sensitive to people with a true broken heart for I know how they feel. I believe heartache brings growth. Like after a forest fire, the soil becomes fertile and much easier to grow things in. The scar of the land will always be there, but the hope that heartache brings is the bud in the ashes.