Puncture Wounds

Tuesday evening I had the privelege of joining some of my fellow believers in prayer. The setting was a small chapel. We spent the first 10-15 minutes in song, and then the next 40 in silent prayer, adoring Christ among us. What I learned during that time astounded me.

As I stated in an earlier post, God has been working in my life lately to break through some mighty rough spots, and though it's hard most of the time, I'm learning to share this with those around me who care about me.

While we were in prayer Tuesday night, God gave me a vision of how some of this healing has been in process. If any of you have ever taken a First Aid course, or if you're in the medical field, you'll understand this analogy.

Much of what I've been through has been of the nature of an object puncturing into my life, not simply a scrape leavign a small scar. As some of you may know, if you find someone with an object sticking out of their body, you do not pull it out. Were you to do this, the person would lose much blood, and could possibly bleed to death. As a first responder to the scene, your job is only to stop the bleeding as best you can, covering the wound with a clean cloth and applying pressure. When someone more skilled in the medical profession comes along, they will examine what has been damaged, and the (I'm not sure how this part works exactly) they will take every precaustion to remove it with as little more damage and blood loss as possible. Then there will be the task of reparing the damage that has been done to any vital organs, tissue, or muscle, and the process of rehab will begin. This process includes extensive bandaging, cleaning, and exercise to the wounded area to restore it to life. There will then be a noticable scar for the rest of one's life.

As I look at my life, there have been many who have covered the wounds until I was able to seek more able care. When I started meeting with my therapist, she knew what I am still learning, that I need God to care for these wounds, and I need Him to remove the objects that I have lived with for far too long.

Under further examination, and discussion with a dear friend this week, I have seen how some of these parts come together. God has done the hard work of surveying the damage, and then has begun to remove these objects. He has called upon His saints to assist in the bandaging process, as well as the cleaning. I am not on my own as far as exercise goes, but I do have to take the initiative in this area. The exercise is that of trusting people again, and opening myself up to be vulnerable about things that I have hidden for a long time. The cleaning, as well as any salve applied to aid in healing, is the work of the Holy Spirit. This often comes in the form of word of encouragement and Christ's love through my brothers and sisters in Christ as I exercise those sore areas. The bandage is God's protection in Christ to keep my from taking in any more dirt, and absorbing any excess blood that might occasionally ooze out from these wounds. The bandages need to be changed at least daily, and I know that Christ cares to do this in many ways, such as warnings from other who know that something might not be a safe way to seek healing, or instruction as to how old patterns would not be benificial if I really expect to experience God's healing of this area.

This vission of healing had me weeping, and now as I write this, it's a reflection of what God has been doing and how I can be grateful to Him. I hope I am able to be that healing in someone else's life as well, but I will always have the scar. Maybe these scars will be what draws someone to me who's still seeking healing from similar wounds. Maybe the scars are simply there to remind me that someone somewhere is in need, and I can pray for them even without knowing their names. Let the healing begin.