The Empty Space Healing Leaves Behind

Paulette Boone

a heart shaped rock with a plant growing out of it
a heart shaped rock with a plant growing out of it

The Empty Space Healing Leaves Behind

When people talk about healing, they often describe the breakthrough moments. The release of pain. The freedom of finally moving forward. The hope that rises when you finally begin to see light where there used to be only shadows. These moments matter, and they are real, but what is not talked about nearly enough is what comes after. No one warns you about the quiet that follows, the stillness that lingers when the chaos finally subsides. It can be beautiful, but it can also be unsettling.

You spend so much energy fighting through storms that when the storm passes, you hardly know how to stand in the silence. You have worked so hard to survive, to process, to release, and to open your heart to change. You expect joy to immediately rush in and fill every corner of your life. But instead, you often find yourself staring into a strange emptiness. It is not pain, yet it does not feel like fullness either. It is a space in between, one that makes you ask quietly, What now?

The Strange Silence After the Storm

This in between space can be disorienting because survival shaped so much of how you lived. The habits, the patterns, and the roles you carried became woven into who you thought you were. Even the pain became familiar. It marked your days, and as much as you wanted freedom, it also became part of your rhythm. When healing comes and those patterns are released, you find yourself standing in an emptiness that feels like losing a piece of your identity.

But here is the truth. Emptiness is not a sign of failure. It is not a sign that something went wrong in your healing journey. It is actually a sign that the old has been released. The silence you feel is not proof that you are broken, it is proof that you are no longer bound to what once held you captive. The space exists because you are no longer who you once were, and at the same time, you are still in the process of becoming who you are meant to be.

Think of it as a cleared field. For a while, it looks bare and lifeless. Nothing is growing. But beneath the surface, the soil is rich and ready. It is waiting for something new to take root. To the untrained eye it may look like nothing is happening, but in reality the emptiness is preparation. What looks empty is actually filled with possibility.

This strange silence after the storm is not here to harm you. It is here to prepare you. It is a sacred pause, a holy in between, where your spirit is being rewoven. And while it feels uncomfortable, it is in this silence that the deepest transformation is taking place.

Learning to Rest in the In Between

When you are in this space, the temptation is strong to rush forward and fill it quickly. We want to distract ourselves, to go back to familiar routines, or to surround ourselves with noise just so we do not have to feel the weight of emptiness. Some go back to relationships that are not healthy. Others throw themselves into work, or busyness, or any number of things that offer a temporary sense of fullness. But rushing to fill the space only robs you of the very clarity that healing is trying to give you.

The in between is not wasted. It is sacred ground. This is the time to pause and to breathe. It is the time to let stillness do its quiet work. Instead of running from the silence, you can lean into it. You can begin to ask yourself gentle questions without demanding immediate answers. Who am I without the roles I used to play? Who am I without the pain I once carried every day? What actually matters most to me now that I have laid down what used to weigh me down? How do I want to show up in this next chapter of my life?

The answers may not come right away, and that is exactly how it should be. Healing is not a race. Becoming does not happen overnight. This in between space is teaching you patience, and in that patience your spirit is being shaped. It is strengthening parts of you that hurriedness cannot touch. It is laying a foundation for peace and purpose to grow in ways that will last.

Learning to rest in the in between is an act of trust. It is a choice to believe that even when you do not see the fullness yet, God is working in the silence. It is trusting that what feels like emptiness is actually a deep restructuring of your soul.

A New Beginning Hidden in the Quiet

The empty space healing leaves behind is not a void to fear. It is an opening to embrace. It is the sacred threshold between what was and what will be. In the quiet, you begin to realize that you are no longer tied to survival. You are not defined by the old roles, the pain, or the wounds that once seemed permanent. You are being redefined by the strength that has risen inside you.

This strength is not loud. It is not always obvious. Sometimes it shows up in simple ways—the fact that you can breathe a little easier, that you can rest without guilt, that you can feel hope stir again. Other times it reveals itself when you respond differently than you once would have, when peace becomes your natural reaction instead of fear, or when you recognize that you no longer need what once seemed essential for your survival.

Over time, the quiet no longer feels empty. It begins to fill with stability, with clarity, with a stronger awareness of who you really are. You start to see that what once felt hollow is actually the foundation of a new version of yourself. A version that is freer, braver, and more at peace. A version that knows worth without needing to earn it. A version that carries hope without needing to cling to control.

The empty space is not an ending. It is the birthplace of something new. It is where peace begins to settle in. It is where purpose begins to take shape. It is where you step into identity not shaped by pain but by healing.

Closing Reflection

The space left after healing is not the end of the story. It is the beginning of the next chapter. It may feel uncomfortable because it is new, but it is also sacred because it is where the transformation takes root. Trust the process. Trust the silence. Trust that what feels like emptiness right now is actually the making of a new you. In time, the stillness will not feel empty at all. It will feel whole. It will feel peaceful. It will feel like the very proof that you have not only healed but have also been transformed.