The thing about healing is that it hurts, sometimes even worse than the original wound. Most people think healing is just a “matter of time” or “don’t bring it up,” and while that’s partially true, it also involves an active confrontation with yourself to get where you want to be. When a bone breaks, you set it. When you get scraped, you use peroxide or alcohol. When you get bruised, you endure an ice pack. I don’t mean to take this metaphor too far, but if you only allow “time to heal,” then you could end up with a mangled bone or an infection.
I can be certain of one thing.
When I’m hurting, God is hurting with me. God is just as mad as you are about the pain in this world. He was so mad, in fact, that at one point in our history in a sand-swept city of blood and retaliation, He entered our pain, side-by-side and face-to-face, and died for me. For you, too. He suffered not only for us, but with us, and jump-started a healing in a tomb as a glimpse of the glory for where we’re headed.
—  J.S. Park

I’ve been to the bottom, when everyone else has left and I was alone with my hurt in the silence. I’ve been at the place where I knew all the right theology but none of it reached me.

In this pit, I found a silence even deeper still. It was called honesty, and in that place, He was the only one there. I cried out, and to my surprise, so did He.

—  J. S. Park, Mad About God: When We Over-Spiritualize Pain and Turn Tragedy into a Lesson
It could be that nothing around you gets better. But He is there, extending grace within the swirling mess of a hostile world. It could be that people around you don’t change. But He is there, growing you to change when others do not. It could be that you get stuck at that obstacle once more. But He is there, having already removed every obstacle between you and Him at the cross, empowering you for so much better than you think.
—  J.S. Park, What the Church Won’t Talk About