Have you ever been wounded?
If you live on the same earth as I do, of course you have. Hurt and pain are a part of living on this sinful earth, not to mention the fact that we have an enemy who prowls around like a lion, looking for someone to devour. Whether it come from living in a sinful world full of broken people, or caused by an attack from the enemy of our souls, hurt is a part of life.
Sometimes the most unexpected hurt, is the kind that comes from a friend.
That’s what happened to me on the World Race, I was hurt by a friend.
In all honestly, the Race was the hardest year of my life. It had it’s joys and victories of course, times I am insanely thankful for, but it most certainly was not easy.
In the beginning, it all started with a picture of Jesus taking my hand in the middle of a storm. I was afraid and just like Peter, I was sinking under the weight of this fear. Jesus’ took my hand and told me to fix my gaze on Him. His hand, His eyes would be enough for me. He would walk me through and He asked me to trust Him, so I did.
I followed Him into the storm and into the fire.
Have you ever heard of a firestorm? My Father is a firefighter and in his room, you find a photo of him from many years ago. He is fighting a fire and behind him an impressive and fearsome phenomenon was captured, a fire tornado. A firestorm can occur when a fire burns so hot, that it actually creates its own wind patterns and in that state, it is capable of creating mini tornadoes.
I was in one of these firestorms this year, where everything around me was burning so hot and ferociously, it was so consuming and jealous it also became a storm
And my friend, Jesus, walked me right into it.
What do you do when you look around and realize that the fire you are in, the hurt and the storm, were created by the person who called you to follow Him? What do you do when your friend, the one who asked you to trust him, is the one who is burning you, the one who is hurting you? When the fire burns everything else away until you feel completely alone, except for the hand that you are so desperately clinging to.
If you're me, you ask "Why?". These past two month have been filled with more whys than ever before, because never before have I walked through something that was this hard that was so clearly orchestrated by the Lord. I’ve always been able to point to pain as having it’s source from the thief or from a sinful world, I’ve never been wounded by my friend like this before.
The past month, I’ve been continuing to ask why and nothing clicked, despite a whole lot of really good friends telling me that this was preparing me for something good, molding me for a greater design. That I needed this fire and testing as preparation for his plan for my life. While I nodded and agreed at a head level, my heart never understood. And then last week, in the middle of my whys and anger, I happened upon this story:
“Amos took a stone from his pouch, weighing it in his hand. Too heavy and it would kill the lamb; too light and it would not serve to discipline him. Amos swung his sling and released the stone, striking the lamb in a front leg, just above the knee. With a startled bleat of pain, the lamb went down.
Tears burning, Amos went to the wounded lamb and knelt. “I am here, little one. I would rather wound you myself than see you come to greater harm.” He knew after gentle examination that the leg was broken, but not shattered. It would heal. “You belong with the flock, not out here on your own where death will find you.” He worked quickly, binding the leg and tugging the lamb free of the brambles. “I know I hurt you, but better you suffer an injury that will heal than become dinner for a prowling lion.” He ran his hand gently over the lab’s head. “You will learn to stay close to me where you’re safe.” He cupped the lamb’s head and breathed into it’s face. “No struggling or you will cause yourself more pain.” He gently lifted the lamb onto his shoulders and carried him back to the flock. Amos sat on a flat rock that gave him a full view of the pasture. Lifting the lamb from his shoulders, he held it close. “You will learn to trust me and not think you can find better forage on your own. I will lead you to green pastures and still waters.” He took a few grains of wheat from the scrip he wore at his waist and shared his food with the lamb. “Sometimes I must wound in order to protect.” He smiling as the lamb ate from his hand. “You will get used to my voice and come when I call” He rubbed the notch in the lamb’s ear. “You bear my mark, little one. You are mine. Let me take care of you.” *
Tears ran down my cheeks as I read, and finally a level of peace and understanding was comforting my heart. He was protecting me from unseen danger, unknown death. He was loving me by wounding me, so he could carry me.
It didn’t matter how many other people had told me it was all for a purpose, I needed the Holy Spirit to tell me and this is how he chose to do it, by showing me a picture of a good shepherd.
It changes you a little, when you realize that Jesus is willing to hurt you, in order to protect you.
Blessed is the one whom God corrects;
so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.
For he wounds, but he also binds up;
he injures, but his hands also heal. – Job 5:17-18
What kind of love is this, that the Father has lavished on us? What kind love is willing to hurt in order to heal? To remove people and comforts, to force me into facing my greatest fear, being alone, to prove to me that His hand will never leave me. Even in the fiercest part of the firestorm, when I couldn’t hear his voice, he still carried me.
The fire left it’s mark like it always does. It burned an awful lot away and has left me wondering, “What now?”
I live in Colorado, I’m pretty used to wildfires. Wildfires are terrible, they destroy and then leave an awful, bleak landscape behind. Char and ruins and rubble. But did you know that there are certain trees and plants that only germinate in the heat of a fire? Fire is a natural part of a forest’s life cycle, it is meant to come and sweep away the dead to make room for new life. It’s super painful when it happens, and everyone hates it when it comes, but after time, it produces beauty. The flowers and new plants that bloom years after the fire are the greenest and most beautiful in all of the mountains.
So right now, I am standing after the firestorm, still healing from some of it’s affects. I’m looking around at the burn and the char and I’m wondering what beauty will come from it. I don’t feel like I have anything to offer, I still feel very empty and broken. I don’t have many earthly possessions or a place to go or a marked road ahead, but I’m still standing next to Jesus, holding His hand. I still have the Father’s lap when I need it, and I trust in His goodness. I still have the Holy Spirit, telling me he will equip me for whatever task may come.
What fruit will come from this fire?
What will be the beauty that rises from the ashes?
I don’t know and I don’t think I will fully know for years. But my heart is at peace, and I’m ready to watch the flowers grow.
* "Sons of Encouragement; The Prophet" Francine Rivers
