Healing Begins With Our Unraveling
I’m joining today with the Five Minute Friday community of writers who write for 5 minutes about a one-word prompt.
Today’s writing prompt is HEAL.
It’s been a heavy week.
It started with the heinous news of a Pastor in Warsaw, Indiana abusing young girls and ended with the tragedy of a school shooting in Uvalde, Texas. The brave testimonies of these women and the faces of each child flash across my mind as I write these words.
Indiana, Texas… devastation knows no bounds.
This realization made me ponder all the hurts and wounds we each carry that aren’t televised or posted on social media and it’s hard to not succumb to the bleakness of it all.
My spiritual director once said to me that healing is an uncomfortable process, and not a linear one.
Carrying invisible hurts is much like having a physical wound; the wound must first be cleaned beneath the surface, then bandaged. Then cleaned again to risk infection while the old bandages are replaced with new ones.
The hurts we carry beneath the surface require the same kind of attention to detail. They must be uncovered, brought out into the light, cleaned, and bandaged. Then, the process must begin all over again until the wound heals itself into a scar.
I think the hardest part of healing any kind of wound, especially one that lives beneath the surface, is the uncovering.
Healing must first begin with the acknowledgment that something is broken.
This takes humility, surrender, and a whole lot of faith. Faith that as we bear our broken, hurting souls, there’s a God full of grace and mercy waiting at the threshold of our pain holding the Neosporin and clean bandages.
“I have seen their ways, but I will heal them; I will guide them and restore comfort to Israel’s mourners, creating praise on their lips. Peace, peace, to those far and near,” says the Lord. “And I will heal them.” (Isaiah 57:19-20)
Jesus is here; in the suffering, waiting, longing, and hurting.
He’s here in the midst of it all, inviting us to come and draw near as His presence acts like a healing salve for our sorrows.
There’s a sort of broken beauty that blossoms from the uncovering of our hidden wounds and all the grief we hold within. Jesus doesn’t call us to be our own healers, to form opinions when we’d rather remain silent.
He simply calls us to Himself.
“Draw near to me, and I will draw near to you.” (James 4:8)
Draw near and drop the pretense that you have to stop the bleeding on your own because you don’t. You’re never alone because the Healer lives within you and He holds every hurt you try to hide.
His approach is gentle, tender, and full of love.
So, as we trudge through the rest of this heavy week, bearing outside and inside wounds, may we remember the broken beauty that comes from allowing the Light to uncover all that lies beneath the surface of our lives.
May we remember the strength and grit that buds and grows within as we lay ourselves down at the feet of Jesus.
May we rest in knowing that we are not our own, but sacred temples where the Holy One dwells and breathes new life.
May we remember that healing begins with our unraveling.