Encountering Our Lady of Sorrows in the Valley of Tears
I could barely finish reading the letter because my vision was clouded with tears. Only a few months before I had read those exact words and my eyes welled up with tears from overwhelming happiness. But this time, the words rang hollow and haunted me. I sat confused and alone in my room, rereading this love letter and carefully analyzing each word in hopes of clarity and answers, yet I could find none. Where did I go wrong in discerning God’s will? Why did God bring this man into my life if He knew it would only break my heart? Where was the Lord in all of this?
I picked up my rosary, which I received as a gift from my ex-boyfriend when we were dating. The rosary was a pillar of our relationship; we prayed it every day together. We had a strong devotion to Mary and received so much consolation knowing that our relationship was in her hands since we had consecrated it to her. I examined the glossy, pearl beads interlaced between my fingers, and I began to pray. As I neared the end of my rosary, I gazed upon the icon of Our Lady of Czethochowa in my room as I recited the Hail, Holy Queen. I spoke the words from my heart as if I was truly talking to Mary, and I began to weep.
Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary, Pray for us O Holy Mother of God, That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.
Sighs. Mourning. Weeping. Exile. Valley of tears. This described the current state of my life. I had prayed the Hail, Holy Queen countless times before, and tonight it took on an entirely different meaning and pierced my heart with its relevance. I sank into the grief, which held me captive for months. No matter what I did to try to pull myself out of it, there I remained. I tried going on walks, connecting with friends, performing acts of service, journaling, making daily trips to Adoration, frequently receiving Jesus in the Eucharist, praying the rosary, receiving spiritual direction, going to therapy, and trying new hobbies. Although these activities brought me spiritual nourishment and gave me spiritual armor to fight the depression that was waging war on my soul, I was still filled with a sorrow that no words could describe and my spirit felt crushed.
As time passed, I became frustrated and judged myself for still being sad. People had told me that time heals all wounds, and yet, I was still hurting. I was upset that I wasn’t where I wanted to be emotionally; I wanted to be okay again. I wanted to be done grieving. I was so tired of crying, yet tears flowed day after day from what seemed like an endless supply. I felt like I was failing the Lord and myself for grieving this hard, yet I realize now that He was weeping right beside me and that my grief was an act of obedience for having loved deeply. If I failed to acknowledge the pain of this breakup and instead pretended that this cross did not exist for me, the Devil would have had his victory. As Henri Nouwen beautifully wrote in his book, Turn my Mourning into Dancing, “The voice of evil also tries to tempt us to put on an invincible front. Words such as vulnerability, letting go, surrendering, crying, mourning, and grief are not to be found in the devil’s dictionary.” By picking up the cross of heartbreak and allowing myself to suffer under its weight, I was able to enter into the Lord’s Passion with Him and in turn, His Resurrection. My broken heart had to endure the sting of Golgotha before it could rejoice in the Resurrection. The healing journey for me was my own kind of Triduum that cycled through sorrowful Good Fridays and the stark loneliness of Easter Saturdays. In brief moments of consolation I got a taste of that joyous Easter Sunday, only to wake up to another Good Friday the following day. Little did I know that healing doesn’t follow a meticulous timeline and that it often takes twists and turns, as well as reroutes and revisiting. Little did I know that, “The way out of our loss and hurt is in and through,” as Henri Nouwen wrote.
It was in recognizing my own powerlessness and inability to save myself that my faith took deeper roots. I couldn’t mend my own broken heart, but the One who fashioned it in my mother’s womb could. I turned to the Divine Physician and every day I visited His office as a patient in Adoration. “Lord, please heal my broken heart, hold my hand, and love me through it,” I prayed. I repeated Romans 8:28 over and over to myself as healing tears streamed down my face in Adoration, “God works out all things for good for those who love Him.” Even though it didn’t feel like healing was taking place in my heart, I knew that it was. I knew I was not alone in my heartbreak, and this was the greatest comfort. Besides Jesus, the Blessed Mother was right there with me and she introduced herself to me as Our Lady of Sorrows. Although I have always loved Mary, I didn’t have a very personal relationship with her. But in this heartbreak, the Mary who once seemed distant and unattainable stooped so low to kiss me and hold my hand as I laid motionless in my bed of grief. While the Divine Physician worked on my heart, Mary stayed at my bedside. She revealed to me that we shared a lot more in common than I thought; we both shared a sorrowful, broken heart. It was in this union of broken hearts that mine was restored. It was in meeting Our Lady of Sorrows in the Valley of Tears that my journey of healing took on a new direction.
Every day after Adoration, I would walk over to a nearby grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes. I prayed each day at the grotto that the healing waters of Lourdes would wash over my ex-boyfriend and me. I prayed that Mary would wrap my ex-boyfriend in her mantle and take care of him, and one day, by the grace of God, I prayed one final surrender prayer to Mary and gave him entirely to her. Up until that moment I had worried about my future, especially with my ex-boyfriend in light of our breakup: I thought this was the man for me -- will God bring him back into my life? Will this closed door ever open again? Should I wait for him? Will my heart ever be ready to love again? These questions gave me so much anxiety and further stifled my healing.
However, one day the Holy Spirit moved profoundly in my perplexity as I prayed the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary. As I reflected on Mary’s crucial role at the Wedding Feast at Cana, a spring of hope seeped through the cracks of my broken heart. The couple was out of wine; there was absolutely nothing left. Mary went to her Son and beseech Him to tend to the couple’s needs. From Mary’s intercession flowed new wine -- a wine that was even better than the one served before they ran out. I so desperately needed new wine in my life, whatever that looked like. The Holy Spirit convicted me to hear this Gospel message in light of my breakup and to ask Mary to bring forth this new wine, not worrying if the wine was to be shared with my ex-boyfriend or if it would be for just me to enjoy. So one afternoon, I stood before the grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes, and like I had done several months before with my ex-boyfriend, I prayed St. Louis de Montfort's Act of Consecration to Mary out loud. This time I specifically consecrated my breakup to her. I gave Mary full reign of that tender and messy part of my life. I knew that like a good mother, she would care for her daughter and ensure God’s best for me. I also knew that like a good mother, she would care for my ex-boyfriend as her son and ensure God’s best for him. How can I go wrong when it is all in Mary’s hands? In those following moments after consecration, I felt a weight of anxiety and sorrow lift off my chest. The same Mary who interceded for the couple at Cana would intercede for me now. She would take my need for new wine, new beginnings, and a new heart to her Son, Jesus Christ.
I continued to trudge through the Valley of Tears even months after consecrating my breakup to Mary, but I experienced a deeper peace and the presence of Our Lady of Sorrows walking with me. It has been almost a year now since my relationship ended, and I am able to gratefully proclaim: “God works out all things for good for those who love Him” (Romans 8:28). Healing did not take place according to my own timeline or expectations, and it takes humility to grieve and heal at your own pace, however long that may take. I still pay visits to the grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes and continue to pray for healing of my heart, but my requests embedded in the words of the Hail, Holy Queen have been answered. Mary has brought me out of exile from the Valley of Tears, gazed upon me with eyes of mercy, and led me closer to her Son. I am most grateful for my journey through the Valley of Tears because it is where I encountered the Divine Physician and Our Lady of Sorrows, the truest loves of my life. The Valley of Tears is not a barren desert, but a birthplace of revival and authentic intimacy when we accept the invitation of the Lord and Our Lady to accompany us. Looking back, I now clearly see the graces of Mary at work in my breakup and healing journey, and I give thanks for the gift of closed doors that I had once fervently prayed would stay open. It was by traveling through the Valley of Tears with a broken heart that I came out with one that was Marian. It was in losing love that I found it in Mary.
O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary, Pray for us O Holy Mother of God, That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.
