All Things Joyful with Alexa Balsiger

Ya know that phrase “healing is not linear”, I have no idea where it came from, but I see it often (and kinda like when you get a new car and suddenly you notice that car all over when you never had before, I see this phrase all the time). Healing isn’t linear, it isn’t neat and tidy and clean, but it is beautiful.

About 6 weeks ago, I lost my sweet aunt to cancer. It’s devastating, it’s horrible, and my family feels that loss so deeply. Lana and I would spend lots of time talking about ministry, Jesus, the Scriptures, and life and I’ll miss that. I miss her wisdom and her vulnerability, and so much more.

I remember in the thick of the pain of church hurt, I was confiding in my aunt Lana (in the pool when we were at Hilton Head Island of all places) about some of the horrible things that had been said and done and how I just couldn’t figure out how to navigate it. I remember telling her that while everyone thought I was crazy, I knew I was being obedient to what God was asking of me. I had no idea why and was honestly frustrated that He was asking me to endure all He was, but I was confident in that call. I remember telling her I was looking forward to my healing. She shared with me how she could relate to that and reminded me of keeping that call and following Him even when it did seem and look crazy. She reminded me that the whole “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle” phrase isn’t biblical and shared some of her own struggles and how it made her lean on God even more. Over the course of the next several months as I shared with her about some more of the pain, she reminded me of that healing I was longing for and how God was with me in it.

I remember asking her what she knew about God because of some of her struggles that she wouldn’t otherwise (and she was a great Bible scholar and teacher!). She shared about the intimacy they shared and I loved that.

I can say that in my place of deep pain, I felt intimacy with God, but also a fear. Why was he making me do this? How much worse could it get? What else could go wrong? I had repented of my sin, I had earnestly sought Him and His word, I begged Him for redemption, reconciliation, and wholeness again. I was sad and defeated and frustrated to not see those things come to fruition. I longed for a deeper intimacy and now I can see how He was with me in it and giving that deepening of our relationship.

There’s still parts of me that wonder why healing didn’t look like I prayed and hoped it would. There are times I question how it can happen like this. There are pieces of conversation that I hesitate to share because of fear. It’s still messy and tangled and knotted in some ways, but there’s a lot that’s been cleaned up and a lot of (but not all) my heart that’s learned to trust again.

When Lana was diagnosed with cancer, she shared about her healing and how that was coming and she knew it. Her healing looked different than we all imagined and hoped and prayed for. As much as I could never wish her back from heaven where she’s full and whole in her healing, I wanted to see that earthly miracle so much.

I didn’t know what my healing would look like and I don’t want to compare it to cancer and eternal healing, but I do know that sometimes it looks different. My healing journey over this year will be shared more over the next weeks and months, but I want to say that healing isn’t always this beautiful uphill journey. It’s got its own pieces of darkness and pain and triggers and fear. It’s also got beautiful moments of light and freedom and hope.

The key to all of that, though? Jesus. He’s never stopped being strong, never stopped being kind, never stopped being just, never stopped being merciful, never stopped being enough. He’s good, His grace is sufficient, and He’s never let go. He never will either. Man, I’m grateful.

I look forward to continuing to heal. There will always be pieces of life that are hard and painful. Losing Lana was a piece that hurt and continues to hurt. There’s hope there, though, we don’t grieve without hope. We know our future is in the resurrected King. That’s where all my hope is.

I remember at my aunt’s funeral, as we spent time in worship, knowing that’s what she’d want and we sang, “Goodness of God” as I sobbed, declaring that “all my life You have been faithful, all my life You have been so, so good…” I meant it. I looked over at my sweet uncle and their kids worshipping, too. With a million reasons to not feel like God had been good or faithful, they declared it. When life doesn’t feel good, His goodness is still true.

“With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God.” It might be with tears streaming down my face or on the floor just trying to catch my breath rather than with joy and celebration like I’d like (though, that’s existing again, too!). But I’ll sing it because He’s good and no matter where I am on the healing journey, it’s true.

You can check out Lana’s blog here. She’s a gem and I can’t wait to hug her again in heaven.