Everybody Has a Wound to be Healed

 

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.