A Cross in the Leaves: Finding Life in the Midst of Healing

During my abuse, I felt and looked like this pile of leaves; dead, not awake, crushed, broken into pieces, not whole, gross and not feeling important. I felt dead to the world but my body was alive for someone to misuse and abuse it. Sometimes without me even feeling or acknowledging what they were doing to it. Walking along in life and just “doing” whatever to get by not noticing the main center of who was walking with me.  Jesus… He was quiet but He was there.  I never really thought He was but quietly walking along in life with me just as I was walking along on this hike in the Smoky Mountains when I noticed the two small sticks that made a cross in my path.  Jesus crossed my path in life… but I felt to shameful and ugly to see that He was there.

In this image, there’s a forest floor covered in damp, fallen leaves; brown, heavy, and layered. Scattered stones press into the earth, and thin sticks lie across one another. In the middle, a small branch forms the shape of a cross. It’s worn, partially covered, and surrounded by what looks like decay. But it’s still there.

Analogy:

Healing from sexual abuse can feel like this ground.  The fallen leaves can represent what has been lost; innocence, trust, a sense of safety. They are not “bad,” but they are heavy. They pile up overtime, sometimes making it hard to breathe or see clearly. The stones can feel like the weight of memories, shame, or questions that were never your fault but still press down on your heart.  And yet, right in the middle of it all… there is the cross.  Not polished. Not placed on a pedestal.  But present.  Just like that branch, God’s love often doesn’t appear in perfect, untouched places. It meets us in the middle of what feels broken, messy, and buried.  The cross in this image reminds us that Jesus stepped directly into suffering, not around it. He understands pain that was unjust, undeserved, and deeply wounding.

As it says in Psalm 34:18:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Even if the cross feels small compared to everything around it, it is still the truest thing in the picture.  And notice something else.  There is a hint of green life clinging to the branch. Growth hasn’t stopped. Life is still quietly happening. That’s what healing can look like.

Not instant.
Not loud.
But real.

In Isaiah 61:3, God promises “beauty for ashes.” Not by pretending the ashes aren’t there. But by gently, faithfully bringing new life from what was burned.  And in Romans 8:38-39, we’re reminded that nothing. No past harm, no pain, no darkness can separate you from the love of God.

Compassionate truth:

What happened to you was not your fault.
The weight you carry makes sense. But it was never yours to carry alone.

Like this forest floor, your story may hold layers of pain. But it also holds the quiet, unshakable presence of a God who has never left you and He is not finished bringing life out of what feels like loss.

 

Reflection:

What “fallen leaves” (losses, hurts, or heavy memories) do you notice in your life right now? How do they feel when you acknowledge them honestly?

Think about the image of the cross among decay. What does it teach you about God meeting you in your pain rather than around it?

Journal over the next four days.