When my children were young and needed a Band-Aid, I would always draw a happy face on it before I gave it to them. It seemed to help their healing.
A couple of years ago, I began to share some childhood secrets I had carried around with me for more than thirty years. Professional advisement assured me my wounds would begin to scab over each time I told my story and my constant need to keep everything bandaged up would cease. Even though I was terribly hesitant, I was tired of carrying this heavy load around, and I needed people to stand beside me and draw happy faces on my “Band-Aids” until the pain lessened.
I rehearsed my “guess what happened to me” monologue repeatedly. Each time I did, the reactions I assumed would take place were what every hurt person would desire: acceptance, belief, understanding, and acknowledgement.
In reality, those were not the reactions that always took place. One night after I felt particularly knocked down by some of the reactions I had received, God reminded me He held the tears I cried as a child, and He would continue to hold the tears I cry as an adult. The pain I suffered was never part of His plan and purpose for my life, but He would take my history and do transforming work in me and through me because of it.
Then God said what I had been longing to hear since I was five years old . . . and perhaps it’s something you’ve been needing to hear for a while too.
“When I look at you, all I see is beauty. I don’t see what you feel you look like; I see the exact person I created. You are clean in my eyes. Never forget I define who you are, not the thief of your innocence or the mockers of your today.”
Jesus keeps His promise to heal and bind our wounds.
(Photo courtesy of morguefile and Earl53.)
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Those words from my Creator took my wounds and began a healing process I will forever be grateful for. Whatever your struggle, forget the smiley faced Band-Aids and consider going straight to the Great Physician. Let Him get started doing a healing in you so you can walk in His anointed freedom.
Vicki Bruce can no longer keep the amazingly-forgiving God bound up inside of her, so she writes. Writing is her personal way of worship, and she is grateful to the Lord for allowing her to express herself to Him as well as to others. She lives in Birmingham, Alabama with her husband and is the mother of four adult children who keep her laughing and praying. Vicki expects to complete her first book of devotions by the Fall of 2015.