I have a dear friend, Pastor Jim F. I have known him for over 20 years. He has a real gift for understanding relationships. It is a knack that he has. Recently he made this observation, it is worth considering.
“The unhealed wounded, wound. The healed wounded, heal.”
You might have to read it slow. But it seems that regardless, pain is the atmosphere we live in. We can adjust, a certain degree at least. But this planet remains a dangerous place. Yet, healing does happen. And we can than avoid afflicting our pain on others. It is possible.
There is little complexity in being wounded. It is a word, a comment an inconsiderate act. It happens quick, and its usually is not very sophisticated at all. Children riding the school bus pierce the hearts of their classmates with frequency. Husbands, crush their wives, and wives harm their children’s hearts. We are seldom unscathed by the poison of each other. We have mastered the art of hurting, and then call it social intelligence.
As Broken Believers we don’t have a monopoly on wholeness. It may have given us an awareness, and may even have some remorse. But it’s like we have the flu, we are intensely contagious. Everyone who draws close, or crosses my path is infected. I can be the “Typhoid Mary” of the Spirit. At times, I seem to sicken everyone I meet.
I must be healed. My own wounds from over the years have accumulated. They have been exacerbated– made worse over time. They say that time heals all wounds. That seems logical, and encouraging even, but it simply isn’t real. Maybe in an unfocused way, but much of the major woundings become much more painful. I hurt worse now than ever.
I have has an ulcer on my tongue that won’t heal. I have had it for the last 18 months. It is painful, it wakes me up at night. The sore rubs against my teeth and I start feeling like amputating my tongue to get some relief. I am always aware of it, or so it seems. My unhealed ulcerated tongue lowers me into reality. On my heart there is another kind of ulcer. Unkind words that have been spoken, hurtful things that have been done.
I guess I think it is both fitting and funny, for a preacher like me to be afflicted in this way. I am being made aware that I speak words that sometimes harm and hurt. Much of the things I say are simply normal, and maybe a bit boring. But I can also speak venomous things. And it is made worse because I carry the title of “pastor.”
We must be healed, we must be made whole. We simply cannot continue to roll through people’s lives like we have for so long. We must want to be healed, our hearts must be fixed, we are broken people. If we are to bring healing, our own personal wholeness must first go to “the Great Physician.” We cannot find strength in any other way.
ybic, Bryan
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(Lord, have mercy on us)
Broken Believers 