I.AM.HEALING...
In many ways it made perfect sense: I have some wounds, and they’re still
healing. My healing is, well, a PROCESS.
proc·ess1
A series of actions, changes, or functions bringing
about a result.
Scars are external, but they’re also internal.
My internal wounds are still pretty raw.
Blood trickles from these wounds. Hurtful people make them bleed. Words
make them sting, and mean actions tear them open. Rehashing the hurt turns my mind into a
pendulum swinging between stable and irrational.
I think, “When will I heal?! When will this
pain stop?!”
My inner reasoning retorts, “Unfortunately, there is no concrete answer to this
question. Scar healing times vary. The
length of time it takes a scar to heal depends on how much tissue was damaged,
the age of the person and the location of the injury, all of which require
patience on your part.”
“I get it - healing isn’t some generic process.
It’s individualized, and healing times vary. Then there’s that very important word: patience. Good things come to those who wait. And, I wait because healing is a process. But, sometimes it can be ugly.”
“Scars are typically ugly as they go into the
healing process. Scars start out looking
angry, thick and red.”
I
remember the day I told my family about my rape. Weeks before my counselor and I had talked
about if I was ready. I wondered and
waited, thinking about the point I was at in my healing process. One day I decided, “I’m ready! Yes – I’m really ready!” So, I sat down and wrote an email. But, the tug of war hadn’t relented and those
voices in my head fought back, “No…this
will be too painful for them. What will
they think and say when they read your email?”
That
email sat for several more weeks. And
then a day in April came. That was the
day I was going to hit ‘Send’. I
needed to hit ‘Send’! My wound was ready
to scab over – to move to the next step in the process.
You
see, I had been wounded for nearly ten years.
A cold January night in Denver, Colorado, changed my life forever. My job took me out West with some coworkers. That night we drank too much. At some point, I woke up in a room with a man
I barely knew. He threw me on the bed
and raped me. I tried to get him off,
but the effects of the alcohol and his bigger posture made it impossible. When he was done, he threw my clothes at me
and shoved me out the door. Hitting the
wall, I lay in a heap in a hotel hallway wondering how a successful woman in
her twenties had just become a rape victim.
Nothing made sense at that point in time!
Because
of the pain, I drank heavily for months, which turned into years, until I had
repressed any thought of Denver deep in my mind. Nine and a half years later, while listening
to a Christian podcast, that horrific moment burst out in full force into my
awareness. Months of therapy
followed. I was on a train I so badly
wanted to stop riding. Finally, on that
day in April, the train came to a screeching halt.
I hit ‘Send’. The calls came and the
tears ran. Those tears were like
precious drops of healing rain! Jesus
wiped away every tear; He collected them one by one. He held my hand, stroked my hair and
whispered, “Shhhhh…it’s o.k. I’m right here. I know it’s not fair this happened to
you. But, I was there. I saw you.
I will turn that night around and make it good.” By the end of the day, I was exhausted
and looked like I had been through a flu pandemic. From the outside, that day was ugly, but
something was happening. My wound was
slowly, ever so slowly, starting to heal…
Shortly after the calls from my family, the fog slowly began to lift and the
epiphany came. My mind drifted straight
to Jesus. He was God-made-human two
thousand plus years ago. He felt the
same pain we suffer. Physical pain and
emotional pain left Him with many scars.
His scars followed Him to His death.
His most painful scars gave us life and ultimate healing.
“But he
was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the
punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)
By His wounds, we are healed. Those words are like salve, penetrating
deeply into my soul. By HIS wounds, WE
are healed! We’ve all been hurt. We all have our trophy scars, and we’re all
yearning for healing. The solution makes
perfect sense! Call out to Jesus and ask
Him to heal us. Jesus never delays, and
He’ll regenerate your heart. No, it’s
true; some of your scars may never fully go away, but consider the words found
in Galatians:
“From now
on, don’t let anyone trouble me with these things. For I bear on my body the scars that show I belong to Jesus.” Galatians
6:17 (NLT)
People can be cruel; they make bad choices, leaving us with pain. Because we belong to Jesus, we will endure suffering. These trials leave scars, each needing to go
through the healing process. No matter
what we endure and no matter what scars we are given, we can find solace that we
belong to Jesus. He’s the ultimate
Healer and can help us conquer life’s challenges. Our scars will remain to remind us where
we’ve been and what we’ve experienced.
In victory, we can cry out to Jesus and rise above the pain being
ultimately healed!
“Never be ashamed of the scars life has left you
with. A scar means the hurt is over, the
wound is closed, you endured the pain and God has healed you.” Anonymous
To the blogging world, I am 'Break of Dawn' due to the personal content of my blog. I am in the process of revealing my true identity on Wordpress.com. Watch for this reveal in the very near future. Until then, I am a lover of Christ, wife, and mom who writes to bring healing.
