The Loop

Broken relationships can shake us to our core. Whether it's a friend, spouse, parent, or someone we deeply trusted, the pain of rupture leaves marks that don’t fade overnight. Sometimes, by the grace of God, reconciliation happens — words are said, hearts soften, and connections are mended. But even then, we often discover something sobering: reconciliation doesn’t erase the impact. 

The scars, bruises, and pain remain.

When we experience relational brokenness, it can distort how we see others, how we see God, and, also, how we see ourselves. It changes how we trust, how we speak, and how we guard our hearts. The aftermath can feel like walking out of a storm — the rain has stopped, but there is leftover destruction.​​

Psalm 34:18 reminds us,

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

This verse doesn’t promise immediate restoration or forgetfulness. It promises a permanent presence — that God draws near to us in our pain. And sometimes, what we need more than quick reconciliation is deep healing.

There’s a temptation to believe that if reconciliation happens, everything should go back to how it was before. But we are not machines that can reset with a switch. Emotional wounds take time. And even when peace is made, trust might need to be rebuilt, and wounds might still need tending.

Forgiveness doesn’t always mean forgetting, and reconciliation doesn’t mean pretending nothing happened.

(I need that reminder, so I’ll repeat it again). 

Forgiveness doesn’t always mean forgetting, and reconciliation doesn’t mean pretending nothing happened.

Part of the healing process is rediscovering who you were before the hurt — and in many cases, who you are becoming because of the hurt. You may not be able to go back to who you were, but God can shape you into someone even stronger, wiser, and more compassionate.

This is what I’ve been learning a lot over the last year. I was deeply hurt years ago by my most trusted friends, people whom I was closest to. I’ve been able to experience reconciliation with one of the individuals, but the unreconciled relationship eats at me sometimes because I can’t have the answers and closure that I want.

I’m learning, though, how much I changed my personality because of that hurt. At the time, and for a long time, the impact of that break wasn’t something I realized. 

When I came out after the rain ended, I ignored how everything shifted. I immediately adapted as I needed to protect myself, building a temporary, unfulfilling structure. I’ve kept friendships at arms length and haven’t opened up to people to prevent that level of pain from happening again. 

I never realized I was living in a shack with leaky holes, because it’s what I needed in the immediate aftermath. Rebuilding myself and opening those wounds has been hard, messy, and beautiful. I’m learning I don’t need to stay in my shack when there’s a perfectly fine house available to me just up ahead. 

2 Corinthians 5:17 reminds us of this hope:

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”

Healing doesn’t mean we forget the past — it means we allow God to use it for something redemptive. We are not defined by our broken relationships but by the One who never breaks His promises to us.

In some ways, it’s hard for me to reconcile my experience versus who God is. As Darrin reminded us on Sunday, I’m thankful that Jesus knows the pain of betrayal and empathizes with the confusion and heartache. 

If you're walking through the aftermath of a broken relationship — reconciled or not — know this: God sees you. The journey includes mourning, forgiving, rebuilding, and sometimes relearning how to love and trust again (and sometimes you have to repeat those feelings/steps many, many times). It’s okay to carry some scars. They are signs that healing has taken place.

Let God lead you. Let grace cover you. And above all, give yourself time.

Share