11-14-09
Wounds (Part 1)
I can’t explain why I am so fascinated with the healing process – except to say that I’ve experienced it in my own life and think it’s amazing that we can go from broken to fixed over time. Amazing how the pain lessens every day, if treated appropriately. Watching my mom go from a cancer scare to surgery to remove her benign tumor to now, the healing/scaring process, has really brought all of this to light for me.
We, as humans, are so much better at focusing on the visible rather than the invisible. If we see the wounds, we can treat them. A tumor can be removed. We can use meds to relieve the pain and use stitches (and a good plastic surgeon) to sew them up.
But what about the broken hearts? What about the wounds just below the surface – the ones that are only visible when we allow them to be? Or the ones that become visible because we can’t hide them anymore? What about people going through divorce, or those who have endured abuse? What happens to the people who refuse to deal with their emotional wounds until one day they realize they are falling apart?
I said this over a year ago:
We interact with people according to our wounds (past hurts we’ve not healed from yet)…we choose our friends and those we surround ourselves with according to where we’ve been and the different types of pain we’ve experienced and endured. we make our pasts our platforms – our jumping off points. we talk about our pasts as if they are still part of us.
Everyone is coming from somewhere you probably haven’t been. We are shaped by both our good and bad experiences and they leave marks on our souls. We need healing and we need a healer.
07-30-08
healer.
a couple of weeks ago my friend ellie told me about this song by hillsong that i needed to listen to. i’m a big hillsong fan; they’re my go-to band (are they a band? the whole hillsong thing kinda confuses me) when i’m in the mood for some good worship songs. i mean, it’s impossible to not love lyrics like “i’m believing, trusting in creative Hands” and, “everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades…never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame” and “I called You answered, and You came to my rescue…” and “arrested by your truth and righteousness, your grace has overwhelmed my brokenness”(from Devotion, From the Inside Out, Came to My Rescue, and To Know Your Name, respectively).
the new song, which will be on their new CD This is Our God, is called Healer. it’s a good one.
The story behind the song can be found here.
The lyrics of the song bring me back to a conversation i had last week with my best friend. she and i talked about how we’re all broken and in need of healing. this isn’t a new concept, i’ve written about it before and it’s certainly been the topic of many a conversation. but she brought up a point that had never crossed my mind. she said that we know God can heal our wounds and turn them into scars, but why aren’t we asking God to heal our scars? better yet, why aren’t we sure He can?
we interact with people according to our wounds (past hurts we’ve not healed from yet) and scars (past hurts we’re healed from, but have left an evident mark on us). we choose our friends and those we surround ourselves with according to where we’ve been and the different types of pain we’ve experienced and endured. we make our pasts our platforms – our jumping off points. we talk about our pasts as if they are still part of us – and i know they are, but what if they don’t have to be? what if we allow Him to remove our scars as well?
I’m beginning to believe that part of grace might be in forgetting. I believe that my past doesn’t have to be my platform.
I want to give him my wounds and my scars and be completely healed. i no longer want “visible” reminders of where i’ve been, mistakes i’ve made, ways i’ve been wronged or hurt. i want God’s grace to extend to that part of me too – the scarred part. i want to believe that it can extend to the depths of me and even beyond that.
though i’m not sure where i heard it, in high school one of my favorite quotes was “God can mend a broken heart, but you have to give Him all the pieces.” i didn’t really know what a broken heart looked like then (or at least not the way i do now), but maybe it’s time for me to take it a step further and ask him to heal the cracks and fissures that remain in the aftermath of the brokenness.
04-17-08
wounds and scars and healing, oh my
[brought this over from gloryology]
“Every time we work to evacuate the pain of broken trust, by talking and working it through as best we can, we churn up the pain. But as we progress in the healing, a scar begins to form over the site. Finally, just as with a scar covering a wound, when we touch our ‘broken places’ there is no remaining pain…but we always remember the origin of the wound. The sign of the healing is not that we forget. It is that when we touch on it, the pain no longer brings us to our knees.”
[thanks el]
We are so broken. We walk around with open wounds – some very obvious and some not so. Our experiences shape us, and sometimes it’s painful.
Life has been somewhat painful for me lately.
The last few weeks I have been slapped – no, punched – in the face with my own brokenness, but also how incredibly self-centered I am. The brokenness, I am realizing, is probably a result of my self-centeredness. I have a double standard in my expectations of people. I’ve been thinking about how I come across to others due to my defensiveness and fear of vulnerability. I want people to trust me, to share with me, but sometimes I refuse to share me with them. It is not a pretty picture, if you want to know the truth. What’s on the inside of me is usually a mess. The tagline from MTV’s Diary series is appropriate: You think you know, but you have no idea. It’s true. You don’t. And I’m scared to let you know.
A friend once told me that I asked questions about his life to avoid talking about mine. He was right.
My first reaction to all of this is to shut down, back off, spend time – hours, days, weeks – alone and get through this to the other side. Hiding. But when you live with a houseful your bloody wounds are not easy to hide. I snap. I get irritated and super defensive. I use a tone of voice that leaves me thinking, “did that just come out of my mouth?!” If I had my own room I would go in and shut the door every day but it’s not an option. Nor is it always healthy, I suppose.
There is a battle raging inside of me all the time: share or not share? It’s deeper than that, really: trust or not trust? If I share too much what will they think? Will they understand? Will they identify? But sharing too little means going at it alone, privately, behind metaphorically closed doors. There’s a time and a place for both. I’m trying to find the balance of vulnerability and authenticity with myself and others and learning when to take time to be still and listen to Jesus. I’m think this is necessary if I’m going to learn to live in community.
“Have you ever been hurt and the place tries to heal a bit, and you just pull the scar off of it over and over again?” – Rosa Parks
I have to stop pulling the scars off and learn to trust in order to let some of my wounds heal.
Ouch.