My deep wounds have no physical scars, nothing that tips people off to my pain. People see me laughing, playing, smiling, but have no idea that I am living in brokenness. My heart is constantly screaming, but no one can hear it. It is muffled or even silent—inaudible to those around me. The world is impervious to my hollering soul.
I wonder how life would be if the pains of our hearts were visible to everyone. I think we would be blown away by the heartaches people carry, and though I imagine we’d feel exposed, we may also feel more known, and maybe not so alone.