LiveMindfuLee

The Light She Chose

Mila had learned to live quietly.

For years, silence had been her shield. First, as a child, when harsh words echoed louder than laughter. Then as a young woman, when the person who promised to love her tried instead to break her spirit piece by piece. She had escaped, but the memories clung like shadows at dawn.

One chilly autumn morning, Mila sat alone on a park bench, watching leaves fall like gentle flames from the trees. Life felt heavy. Her heart felt bruised. Gratitude? She didn’t even remember what that emotion felt like.

She pulled her coat tighter around her and whispered a prayer she wasn’t even sure she believed anymore.

“Lord… why didn’t You protect me? Why did You let me walk through such darkness?”

A tear slid down her cheek. She didn’t bother to wipe it away.

As she stared at the ground, an elderly woman with a warm smile and silver hair approached. She carried a small basket filled with muffins wrapped in gingham cloth.

“You look like someone who needs something sweet,” the woman said, handing her one without waiting for an answer.

Mila hesitated, then accepted it. “Thank you,” she murmured.

The woman sat beside her. “Gratitude often starts with something small,” she said, as though reading Mila’s thoughts. “Sometimes it’s a muffin on a cold morning. Sometimes it’s just waking up.”

Mila looked at her sharply. “How do you know I’m struggling?”

The woman took a deep breath and looked at the sky. “Because I’ve been where you are. Hurt. Abandoned. Certain God turned His face from me.” Her voice softened. “But He hadn’t. He was walking through the fire with me.”

A warmth stirred in Mila’s chest, fragile but real.

The woman continued, “Gratitude isn’t about pretending the pain didn’t happen. It’s about remembering that God is still here. Still strong. Still healing. Gratitude is choosing to see His fingerprints even when life has tried to cover them with darkness.”

Mila felt something crack open in her heart. She closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze brush against her face.

“Lord… thank You,” she whispered. It felt foreign at first, but then something bright flickered inside. “Thank You for bringing me out. Thank You for new beginnings. Thank You for not giving up on me.”

The words didn’t erase the past, but they wrapped her pain in a new kind of softness.

When she opened her eyes, the elderly woman was rising to leave.

“Why did you come to me?” Mila asked.

The woman smiled with a gentle, knowing. “Because God still sees you. And He needed you to know that.”

Then she walked away, her steps light, as though carried by grace.

Mila sat alone once more, but the loneliness had lifted. She looked at the fallen leaves broken, colorful, beautiful. For the first time in a long while, she felt something bloom inside her:

Hope.

And in that hope, she found her first true seed of gratitude.

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Finding Gratitude After the Storm

A follow-up reflection inspired by Mila’s journey

If you saw yourself in Mila’s story, the ache, the questions, the longing to feel whole again, please know this: you are not alone, and you are not behind.

Healing after abuse is not linear. Some days you wake up determined to rise above everything you’ve endured. Other days, the simplest task feels impossible. Both kinds of days are holy. Both kinds matter to God.

What Mila discovered on that cold autumn morning is the same truth God is offering you today:

Gratitude isn’t the absence of pain.

It’s the presence of God in the middle of it.

For a long time, Mila believed her suffering meant God was far away. Maybe you’ve felt that, too. Like your prayers bounced off the ceiling or your tears went unnoticed. God doesn’t sit on the sidelines of your suffering. Scripture promises:

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

Close.
Not distant.
Not waiting for you to “get over it.”
Right here, now, in this very moment, with you.

What gratitude looks like in real life

Gratitude doesn’t always look like smiles, praise songs, or bold declarations of faith. Sometimes it looks like:

• Whispering “thank You for strength today” when your chest still feels heavy.
• Noticing a small kindness prepared just for you.
• Realizing God protected you in ways you didn’t understand at the time.
• Feeling even a flicker of hope and acknowledging it as a gift.
• Choosing to believe you are worthy of peace, safety, and joy.

Gratitude is a posture of the heart; a slow turning toward God, even if you can only take one step at a time.

Where God is taking you

Mila’s journey didn’t end on that park bench.

And neither does yours.

Your heart will grow stronger. Your voice will grow clearer. Your faith will grow deeper roots than before. Survivors often carry a kind of wisdom and tenderness that can only be formed in fire, and God is going to use your story in powerful, life-giving ways.

Not because you were abused.
But because you survived.
Because His hand remained on you.
Because there is purpose in your breath and destiny in your healing.

🌸 A Journal Prompt for This Week

Take a quiet moment and write:

“Lord, show me the small places where You are still caring for me.”
Then write down any moments no matter how small that feel like answers.

Maybe a kind word.
A good cup of coffee.
A sunset.
A safe friend.
A moment of unexpected peace.
A reminder that you are still here, still rising.

Let gratitude grow slowly. Let it be gentle. Let it come in its own time. And trust that God is walking with you, shaping beauty out of every broken piece.

With Love and Gratitude,

Brittney @livemindfulee