Skip to main content

Finding Closure

 Finding Closure


Our lives are often a potpourri of events and circumstances that shape us—defining who we are and who we are becoming.


Many spend years trying to find closure from an event—or series of events—that altered their very existence. From the chaotic memories of a once "happily ever after" to the longing for a true soulmate, we all carry stories waiting to be laid to rest.


It could be the slow fading of a once tightly-knit relationship, the sting of unexpected loneliness, or the crushing weight of a loved one’s passing. It may be the pain of fruitless efforts despite tireless labour, or a medical condition that rewrote every part of your world.


There’s the journey of losing and regaining faith—the wilderness moments. The people we left behind, the ones who left us. The doors we closed, those shut against us, and those that never opened. The pleasant. The unpleasant. The failures that pushed us forward, and those that knocked us backward—leaving us feeling like we’re right back where we started.


And then, the haunting echoes:

"Guy, what are you up to now?"

"He doesn’t know what he’s doing."

"You’re not even on the train anymore."


But closure is personal. It comes at different times for different people.


Some find it as adults for wounds inflicted in childhood. Others stumble upon it after a series of unfolding events—a word, a message, a sight, an experience, an explanation. For some, it comes through restitution, a long-awaited "I'm sorry", a reunion, or even the finality of a sudden passing. It could arrive through a breakthrough, a divine encounter, a TV show, a passing comment by a stranger who has no idea of your pain.


It could be a miracle. A dream job. A doorbell ringing. A divine connection.

Each one a reminder: you are not alone, and things are being worked out for you—even when you cannot see them.


These moments of unveiling help us reevaluate what we once held so tightly—realizing that perhaps it was never meant for the future we are walking into.


Finding closure is knowing you did your best to salvage what you could, and accepting that it is what it is.

It could be the birth of a child you waited for through years of tears, mockery, and side glances.

It might be discovering your purpose—and walking in it, fully and freely.

It’s finding that one person who was truly meant for you, after a series of heartbreaks and mismatches.

It’s when the business you poured your soul into finally thrives.

It’s the reward of relentless labour and 


sleepless nights.


Ultimately, finding closure is knowing that you were preserved by God—for His purpose, and to live your best life according to His plan.

It’s the deep, unwavering peace that tells you: this happiness was truly worth waiting for.















Comments

  1. This is one piece of writing that I have to read over and over again. For it carries in itself a message for the author.
    I trust that you will find your true self and the closure you truly deserve. Thank you

    ReplyDelete
  2. Deep, connectable and full of practical wisdom.
    Thanks for sharing this master piece with us.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Waiting Deception

When you have waited for something for so long that the wait feels endless and exhausting, an angel called “Waiting Deception” begins to whisper. It whispers that the caution you once believed was wisdom was actually pride. Suddenly, you begin to wonder how saying an obvious no—something your faith and morals once resisted—now feels normal. It is the same voice that convinced my friend, who had been trusting God for the fruit of the womb, that her abusive ex must have been her soulmate—simply because he now has three children, despite inflicting domestic violence on his wife. Perhaps, the voice suggested, motherhood would have softened the blows, made them lighter, easier to bear. It is the whisper that draws your attention to the speed of your ticking biological clock and reminds you—mercilessly—of the boxes of expected dreams you have not been able to tick. It exaggerates your shame, spotlights your failures, and tells you where—and when—not to show up. Slowly, it silences you until ...

ILL-MOTION

‎This is the pattern of emotional suppression: You grew up learning to swallow every thought, every emotion, including those inflicted by the adults around you. ‎ ‎ You were alone, somewhere in the euphoria of heaven, playing and having conversations you never truly understood, yet they soothed your soul and brought you genuine peace—until your parents chose to engage in combat. ‎ ‎ ‎ It was a struggle that was sometimes sweet, rough, or enjoyable; you couldn't really tell. Or perhaps it was the kind of combat where only one person took wicked pleasure while the other wailed in pain and shame. ‎ ‎ It wasn't until you grew up, gaining a bit of sense, that your "rabies- infested mouth" aunty blurted out the truth: you were a child born out of rape. ‎ ‎ ‎ That was when your emotions locked down, knowing you couldn't be claimed, that your identity was nothing more than shame, anxiety, and a long trajectory of trauma. You choked on your pitiable...