Tag: moving on

Shouldn’t I Be Over This By Now?

Have you ever thought you should be over something already? That there should be a timeline on healing? You’ve had the pain, you’ve done the work, you can check the box – all healed now. But then the feeling comes back. Shows up out of nowhere. And you almost get mad at yourself – I’m healed! I shouldn’t feel this way!

I tend to treat things as a project or a class – something with a deadline. As in the appropriate amount of time has passed, so I should be all moved on by now. But every time pain or grief comes back to the surface, I feel like it’s an imposter. You shouldn’t be here, sir. I’m healed now.

But that’s not how it works, is it? Healing does not happen in a straight line. It has hills and valleys and curves so sharp you can’t see what’s on the other side. Grief circles back and shows up unexpectedly. It throws you for a loop because you’ve done so well and now here’s one of the hardest weeks and you can’t stop getting emotional about things.

Grief can be sneaky. And I’m talking about grief in general – you can be grieving a death of a loved one, an ending of a friendship, an absolutely heartbreaking breakup, the death of a dream or just a season of life ending. Grief comes in layers and sometimes creeps up on you in ways you least expect it. You have done the work, you’ve cried your eyes out and you are pretty sure you’re healed. Then come moments or events or things people say – these everyday innocent things end up triggering our pain without warning. Sometimes it’s a memory, a longing or just simply something you used to do with someone who used to be a part of your life. Suddenly normal, everyday things like the grocery store or running errands remind you of the person who used to do them with you. Or things you’d pick up for them. And heaven forbid “that” song comes on the radio at Publix and next thing you know you’re in tears over the bananas in the produce section.

A few events caught me off guard recently – I was going through a people situation and then going on a trip to visit my friends. In the past, someone would be there with me and/or for me and my healing heart did not anticipate feeling like something was missing or off because of their absence. It took me a day or so to realize what I was feeling. And then sadness and grief hit me in a way I did not contemplate the reality of.

It’s the same for holidays and birthdays and life events – when someone we’ve loved is not there in a capacity our minds had thought they’d always be. Sometimes you wish you could just hear their voice or experience this moment of life with them just one more time. It may happen when you least expect it and it can catch you so off guard. And just when you think you’ve healed, another layer of grief comes outta nowhere and you’re sobbing in your car in traffic on a random Tuesday.

Grief takes no prisoners and makes no apology for what it is. It simply collects its dues and quietly moves on. Since life doesn’t stop and things are swirling all around you, you have to find a way to live in the pain. So we figure it out and put what pieces we can back together and we move on. Bit by bit. A little wobbly at times, but stronger than we were the day before. We may live through different levels of that pain at different times, but we all find ways to move through it. Grief is just simply a part of the human experience.

Then there’s something fragile and precious that begins to happen next….like the certain type of beauty that happens when new growth appears in the forest after a wildfire. I was able to experience this phenomenon when I lived in Colorado and fires destroyed thousands of acres on the Grand Lake side of Rocky Mountain National Park. The scorched earth was no match for the new shades of green that pushed through the ashes and claimed their place in the sun. A perfect example of resilience. With less drama than the rebirth of a phoenix, these new plants quietly show up and stand their ground while life slowly moves back to normal.

That’s a lot like it is for us – as growth is born of grief, we harvest the bitter seedlings with experience and strength and enter in a quiet new way of living our lives. There’s a loss of innocence as we can never go back to life untouched by grief, but we have endured the pain and now have the chance to rise above and walk back into our lives. We painfully remember what it feels like, but have the confidence to face it again and walk forward. Our healed hearts fondly remember happy times and cherish the memories as we move on and live our lives. In doing so, we are now better equipped to recognize when someone else is grieving – giving us the opportunity to squeeze their hand while looking at them with the reflection of pain in our own eyes. Letting that speak silently – that we know and we are there for them, however they need us.

This world is made up of so many experiences and our lives intertwine with so many others – so in this life where we can be whatever we want to be, be a shoulder and a rock to someone who may be grieving. We may never know the impact we’ll have and what we’ll learn about ourselves in sharing the experiences of others.

Our time on earth isn’t a race. And don’t worry when grief or pain resurfaces, it will not undo the healing you’ve already done. You’re still standing after everything you’ve gone through. And that, my friend? That’s the miracle. That’s the win. It’s not about a timeline or a deadline or who looks better when it’s all said and done. Grieve as long as you need to. Lean on those you can trust. Ugly cry all over their shoulders. When you’re done, raise your head and open your eyes. Do you see what’s in front of you? That’s the other side of healing.

Now, go live your one wild and precious life.

You’re Not Who You Were Before

Life changes us. Constantly. We have highs and lows and then extreme highs and extreme lows. There are failures and successes, wins and losses, love and heartbreak. Beginnings and endings and ends and beginnings. Life is a crazy beautiful roller coaster of experiences and growth. Some of it is joyful and some of it is beyond painful. Some of it we never want to go through again – but yet it taught us some of life’s greatest lessons so we’re extremely grateful for (in an odd sort of way).

Then there’s an incredibly crazy thing that happens: we go through our valley experience and when we start climbing back out of it, we naturally start to go back to the way we were before. To our old thought processes and habits and just the way we used to do…all the things. But now, it feels off. Like something’s missing or not fitting correctly and we struggle because…we’re better now. We have it figured out, we clawed our way back to “where we were”, so why does it feel so weird?

You know why? Something so simple and so hard to grasp all at the same time. You’re not the same person. You’re just not. The experiences of what you went through and how you handled it and what you were taught through them, naturally changed you. Or it was a huge God lesson and then you experienced supernatural change.

Whatever it was or whatever it is, you have been changed inside – your heart, your manner of thinking, the emotional access you want to give sparingly instead of fully as you did previously…all of these things have an impact on who you are. And how you want to show up moving forward. Is it a bad thing? Absolutely not.

This is exactly what the parable about new wine in old wine skins is about. New wine expands as it ferments and the wine skins will need to be able to accommodate that expansion. If you put new wine in old wine skins, the old cannot accommodate the new growth, and trying to make it work will end up destroying them both.

I first experienced this when I moved to Tennessee. The new city and new job and not knowing anyone was daunting and a little scary, but hey, I had done all that in Colorado before and figured it all out. So, naturally I thought I just needed to do the same things in Tennessee. Nope. Nothing worked the same way or felt right and things fell apart quickly. It took me a bit, but I met a lady who shared with me that it sounded like I was trying to pour new wine in old wine skins. And it finally clicked.

The first half of 2026 was rough for me – heartbreak and endings and growth and new beginnings, both personally and professionally. The heaviness of work issues and family matters and my own personal growth- all of that has a way of changing a person. The past month or so has been one of seeing the results of that growth and healing and coming back into my own and making my way back to the things that I love and enjoy. All to realize…some of them don’t fit anymore. Or work the same. Or even look the same.

It took some processing to figure out just why I was feeling this way – new wine. Old skins. I don’t want to spill or ruin the new wine, so it needs to go into a new skin. Now, figuring out just what that new skin looks like and feels like is a process all on its own. One of exploration and adventure and development – and I’m learning the more open I am to what that looks like, the more fun the process becomes.

So if you’re going through a new season in life and things are not quite feeling the same or people are not jiving the same or you just don’t have the same feeling of satisfaction- it just may be that you are pouring new wine into an old skin. Once you come out of a season of heaviness or intense growth or extreme happiness, that new skin becomes something to explore and discover. My greatest hope is that you find out who you are becoming and who and what are going to come along with you on your journey. You may be pleasantly surprised by what you find.