There once was a girl who lived a good life, a happy childhood, with amazing parents and siblings. There is nothing she would choose to change if given the opportunity. She loved Jesus from a young age, and always desired to serve him, even if the desire was hidden in the recesses of her heart from time to time.
But as her life took its course, she was wounded – by friends, boys, relationships, disappointments, and her own foolishness and selfishness. Time passed, wounds multiplied and scars formed, and then in her brokenness, she called out Jesus, who extended grace, forgiveness and healing without measure. But she only knew how to receive this precious gift in part, not allowing all her heart to be made whole.
The enemy of all humankind knew the weaknesses she had in her heart, and came again with killer blows – exposing again her wretched selfishness, foolishness, and seeming inability to make right choices. The wounds that had partially healed tore open again, larger and more obvious than before. Injuries multiplied and her heart broke and hardened in new ways. She again realized her brokenness and called again to Jesus -and He again extended his amazing grace, forgiveness, and healing without measure. But again, she only could manage to hold on to pieces of this gift.
The cycle repeated again, and again she was broken, and called out to Jesus, knowing her heart was harder than she ever thought it could be, and she needed Jesus more than ever. In is faithfulness, He came again and offered all the healing in His hands – healing without limits or restrictions. But again, she didn’t know how to accept the entirety of this gift. How can one continue to be given healing and then walk in a way as to be broken and wounded repeatedly? Does God offer that much grace? Belief in Jesus told her ‘Yes’, but that knowledge didn’t get to the heart deep enough. Thoughts and rationalities raged in her subconscious, sometimes reaching her mind, the actual thoughts causing concern, yet bringing no solution.
”
What if my wounds mark me for who I am?
If I am wiped clean of my wounds, I can’t brag about my scars.
My identity is my
broken past
.
I am, in a warped sense, proud of my brokenness.
It is
‘life experience’ right?
I need these things, this brokenness, to relate to people.
I am not
that broken – I have to hold on to these things.
The
Bible says that we are all in process of growth and will be
till we face
Jesus
in heaven, so I can never be fully restored.”
The answers never fully came, but the internal struggled pressed on, like a battle between two unseen forces – the knowledge of Scripture, and the truth that Jesus presents to her, that she believed in her head, verses the strongholds of the enemy of her soul, and his lies that she believed in deep, dark parts of her heart. There must be more than this though…
So began the journey…
