“Ouch!” I yelped, instinctively pulling my hand toward my chest. The knife I had been cleaning dropped into the sink. I was afraid to look at my finger. Thoughts raced through my head as I looked around my empty house.
Oh this is bad! Will I need stitches? Will I be able to drive myself to the hospital?
My mind filled with all the worst case scenarios.
I grabbed a paper towel and prepared for the worst as I opened my clenched fist over the sink. To my surprise there wasn’t much blood.
It’s probably deeper than it looks. I told myself, but I was unwilling to examine it much closer.
My first aid training came to mind and I hurried to clean the cut and cover it tightly with a bandaid and tape.
Surely this part of my hand will get easily infected. But I’ll just have to do the best I can to keep it clean.
I kept my finger elevated for at least thirty minutes. Working away at household chores with my hand raised above my heart, looking like I was in the middle of a praise and worship concert.
For two days I fussed over my finger like it was my job. I changed the bandage as needed and wrapped my finger tight to give the wound a chance to heal.
Less than one week after my knife cleaning accident, I realized there wasn’t even a scab on my finger. I examined it closely as I stood at my bathroom sink. There was not a scar, or a scrape. Nothing.
I wondered how an injury that could have been so much worse, was completely healed already.
You were made to heal.
My breath caught. Recognizing that this wasn’t a random thought that just jumped into my head. It was the still small voice of the Holy Spirit.
I made you to heal.
Tears filled my eyes as I looked in the mirror. These words were about more than just my finger wound. God had been guiding me toward healing my heart from past wounds of trauma, depression, and anxiety.
Of course, God created our bodies with the capacity to heal small wounds. But could I trust that I was made to heal from the wounds that are far deeper than my skin?
I don‘t have all the answers. But that day I decided to step toward the journey of healing.
Our creator and savior knows our deepest wounds. I’m not talking about our physical wounds (although he knows those too). But those wounds that affect our very souls.
Our Heavenly Father made our souls capable of healing. He desires healing for us. Not only that but, He heals us!
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3
Can you picture God carefully wrapping your heart in a bandage? That is the kind of father we have. He cares about our hurts.
Binding up our wounds doesn’t instantly heal them. Just like my finger, it will take time and care to heal our souls. It’s a process. And some wounds are deep enough to leave lasting scars.
I am so thankful that God can bring beauty from our scarred souls. The nail scarred hands of Jesus prove that God can use scars to tell of his redemption and healing!
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