About five months ago, me and the girls on my team were in an accident. We had just pulled out from the long driveway that went to our compound when our driver took a left turn and lost control of his moped. Down we went and I found myself lying on the ground, calling out to make sure everyone was okay. We picked ourselves up off the ground and waited a few moments while the driver fixed his bike. We looked each other over to make sure everyone was okay. With nothing more than some scrapes and bruises to come, we got back on the tuk-tuk. As we started bouncing down the road, I noticed my shoulder hurt. By the time we arrived at our ministry contact for our goodbye ceremony, it was really hurting. For about three weeks I couldn’t even lay on that side of my body, not to mention it didn’t even fully heal for about six weeks.
I tell that story because last night, some five months later, my shoulder was aching. I haven’t lifted anything heavy or done any kind of physical activity that would have caused it. Out of nowhere, the ache I felt so many months ago had returned. It may only stay for a day or could linger for a few. I sat in the recliner in my room thinking about my shoulder, not at all focused on the book I was trying to read. I knew God was telling me to write about this aching because OF COURSE I could relate it to our lives, even though I wasn’t sure how he wanted me to do that just yet.
But the very simple connection I can see here is we’ve all been beat up by something in life. We’ve been abused, lost friendships, and buried loved ones. We’ve felt the piercing sting of someone’s words. We’ve been scarred by the brokenness of the world. And after going through these experiences, we try to move on. We think we’ve forgiven, we’ve healed, and we’re done with those past hurts. So months later when that old wound begins to ache again, we are surprised. I thought I was over that. I thought I was healed.
When those old wounds begin aching again or a scar is twinging just a bit, when we are hearing those old lies, we can take them back to Jesus. God sent him to Earth and called him Immanuel; He was literally God with us on Earth and he experienced the pains we do. He was betrayed by friends. People insulted him. One of his best friends died (and then he brought him back to life). He was beaten and hung on the cross with nails in his hands and feet. Jesus understands our pain and Satan remembers our pains. Satan tries to use those wounds to pull us away from God and often he succeeds because we begin to question God. We feel unsafe and exposed, so we hide behind our questions. Don’t hear me wrong in this, I am for asking God the tough questions. He is willing to answer them. But when we ask why and don’t listen for a response, do we really want to hear the answer?
As I’ve gone about my day, God keeps reminding me that he is my father. What father would ever intentionally harm his children? What father would abandon his children in need? Not my heavenly father. He lets us suffer natural consequences of our choices, but he never abandons us. And when bad things happen, I know with all my heart God turns them into something good.
