Our Broken Hearts Will Mend

Life finding us amongst the ruins of our lives

A canvas of gratitude:

When I started Heart Canvas this past July, my steps were uncertain, hesitant. Yet here we are, and I’m deeply grateful that you chose to journey with me as I took the leap into this space, pouring my heart into every word.

I want to thank you for every way you’ve supported, celebrated, affirmed, and clapped for me. When I think of each and every one of you who makes time to be part of this community—whether through a follow, a subscription, a tip, a like, or even reading silently—my heart swells with gratitude.

And as I share this final offering for 2024, I hope it serves as a gentle affirmation that I see you. That I hold up your hearts with care, just as you have held up mine with your presence, your love, and your steadfast belief in what this space could become.

May this new year hold within it all of your heartfelt requests and aspirations, and the fulfilment of all that you are meant to be in this world, in this season.

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Press play and let this song hold you as you read. Manana’s words did not just inspire the title of this letter, they inspired its heart, reminding us that even in the breaking, there is always a mending.

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Maybe this has been a heavy year—for some, a heavy life.

But I want you to know that the bones in us that have dried up will come back to life. That we will come to know ourselves as a people who have always defied death.

In the twists and turns of life, in the shattering of our hearts, we will one day see that those broken pieces were never just fragments. They were transporters, carrying us to heights and places we could never have imagined. Though the pieces of our hearts may never return to what they once were, they will become something new. In their fragmentation, they will hold us together in ways we could not have foreseen.

Because there is grace in the breaking. And always, always, there is grace in the mending.

When a wound is inflicted, the body begins its work almost immediately, silently knitting us back together. And I want us to believe that the same is true of our hearts—that in all our breaking, healing begins even before we notice.

So, please hold on to the truth that our broken hearts will mend.

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

I say this as someone who has known devastation so deep, it seemed endless. But I live. And I thrive. I now believe that life is not just a painful thing that we cannot wait to rid ourselves of. It is a gift, waiting for us to open it again and again, in all its complexity and wonder.

The dark valleys we’ve walked through? They were never our permanent encampments. They were tunnels, leading us toward the light we dared to hope for. And in that knowing, we mend.

I think of cities swept away by earthquakes and disasters. Though they lay in ruins, they were rebuilt. I know the same is true for us. We will find life in the ruins of our lives. Shouts of joy will rise from the cracks of our old devastations.

Our hearts may have crushed under the weight of loss, but the heart is a muscle. And though it may tear, mend it will.

If life has cocooned us in darkness, and pressed us into what feels like nothingness, then perhaps our metamorphosis is near. Where life has brought us low, wings await us. On the other side of our healing is an expansive freedom, a new beginning we couldn’t yet see.

Our broken hearts will mend—not perfectly, not without scars—but they will mend.

As we leave this year behind, my hope for all of us is this:

To never underestimate our heart’s capacity to heal.

To trust in the truth that our broken hearts will mend.

Because even in their breaking, they always carried the DNA for our becoming.

All my love,

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If this space has resonated with you, or if my words have offered comfort or clarity along the way, you can buy me a coffee as an encouragement to keep creating, sharing, and holding space for us. Your support means the world to me. Thank you for being here and for seeing me.