When Healing Is Hard: Finding Beauty in the Wounds You Hide

Have you ever held onto pain so deep it felt unspeakable?

In this episode, you'll hear an original poem, Unspoken, written by Lia Girard, and consider its deeper meaning as it applies to your life experiences or any wounds you may be feeling. Lia offers encouragement to be willing to share your story, even if it's messy — as a gift of grace to yourself and others.

Today's episode invites you to:

• Embrace that pain doesn't need to stay hidden
• Tell your truth to someone who cares or may need to hear it
• Allow the imperfect process of healing to happen naturally

You'll also be given a word, inspired by the poem, to ponder as your week unfolds.

Lia Girard is a poet, writer, author, wife, and mom whose feature articles are found on iBelieve.com, Crosswalk.com, and other inspirational platforms. 

You can explore her poetry, often inspired by the wonders of nature, on Instagram: @wildpeace.poetry. 

If you love the show, or any episode resonates with you, please rate or review the show on your favorite platform, or email your feedback to lia@wildpeacepoetry.com.

Transcript

Speaker 0:00

Hello and welcome to Heart of a Wildflower. This is a space that invites you to slow down, reconnect, and find beauty even in hard seasons. I'm Lia Girard, your host, and I'm so glad you're here. Today we'll explore a poem I wrote about the slow and patient healing of wounds that you may still be feeling. Titled Unspoken. Unspoken. Here's to all the unspoken things of buried sea glass and broken wings, of rubble inside that we all learn to hide, left by pain that has built us, while fires have died. Storms have blown through us and scattered our thoughts, while we cried to the wind, and our voices got caught in a cyclone of worrying. What's wrong with me? Razed by confusion, unable to see that even the sky holds both fury and peace. Even the oceans recede and unleash, and everything living is breaking to say it's good that we feel this. We're learning today to honor our stories and mean what we pray. We'll speak of both meadows and sheared off cliffs, of fears and of sadness, and all the what-ifs, so that others may come out of hiding and share what makes them feel lonely and jagged and bare. Because just like feathers, cocoons, and rare treasures, our truths are our gifts meant for healing each other. Do you keep some things hidden, maybe even really deep down inside, injured places that are taking longer than you expected to heal? Many of us paste on a smile and we try to carry our burdens alone. But the truth is secrets tend to surface somewhere or another. And while there's absolutely nothing wrong with spending time alone in prayer or in tears and in therapy, I believe we share an untamed natural world that's always revealing the beauty of barrenness, brokenness, fury, and imperfection. It makes me think of how the sea swallows shattered glass and over time tumbles it into what some consider gems. Though the origin was destruction, the end result is a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. It's amazing that even something as powerful and unfathomable as the ocean can also be hurt by the uncompassionate wounds of pollution or development. Yet there's a magic and a mystery that persists when meadows spread into forests, tides ebb and flow, and the sun and moon remind us that there's always light somewhere. Our poem today is for anyone, perhaps you, who feels that their stories are too messy to share. Maybe you tended the fire of love only to watch it burn all the way down. Maybe you celebrated a long-awaited blessing that was quickly taken away. This poem asks you to look to the lessons of nature, how the sky spreads out over all of us, teaching that current conditions are always temporary, and that we can't even live without the dark clouds that bring needed rain. Some places need winters that freeze trees into hibernation, or the sun that brings pollinators to life. In the same way, humanity is always becoming, always learning from each other while leaning on our natural environment to simply breathe. I think it's on purpose that flowers die and rise again so that you can know anything that breaks or changes you is not an oddity that separates you from the flow. There's not one part of this entire mortal world that's indestructible. And yet there is simultaneously always hope. If you've ever been through a hard time or are currently asking yourself, what's wrong with me? Please know that your reality is a purposeful part in the story of all of us. The way you struggle and rise through any heartbreak or hardship can be building something in you that someone else will need to survive. That's why I want you, as the poem says, to speak of both wide and peaceful meadows and also dangerous, sheared off cliffs. You can say what scares you and talk about sadness while also illuminating all the unanswered what-ifs. Nature never hides what's happening to it from you. Let it give you the courage and grace to listen to others' hurts and share your own. Because when someone sees what makes you feel jagged and bare, they may feel less lonely and more understood. Most of all, never be ashamed to be always growing. What I'd like to leave you with is a word from the poem to ponder. And that word is healing. Have you ever watched an injury or a surgery incision site or stitched together skin go from tender to tough to supple, changing in size and color all the while? Have you ever been able to miraculously speed up the time that that healing requires all on your own? Many of us are still healing in places no one can see. And sometimes those injuries don't require bandages, but rather patience, understanding, or love. Feeling seen in the company of someone who understands your struggle is a gift. Addressing or overcoming abuse, loss, hardship is not an embarrassment. It's the reality of living in a complicated world. As we close today, think about this. All the wounds you carry that still need healing or have found healing are gathered treasures. They're creating the marvelous mosaic of you. Thank you for spending this time with me today. I hope it offered you room to reflect and reconnect with yourself. If this episode spoke to you, please share it with a friend or drop me an email at lia@wildpeacepoetry.com. You can also find my poetry and message me on Instagram: @wildpeace.poetry. Until next time, keep blooming in your own wild and wonderful way.