I don’t want this to be a long post. It’s 1:00 am. I need to go to bed soon, but I wanted to write this before I forgot. I’ve been thinking about wounds and healing lately. Wounds, often a by-product of something, are powerful. It’s pretty obvious. I’m reading this book by this guy who was abandoned by his dad, brother beat the crap out of him all the time, and his mom was an alcoholic. They inflcited wounds on this guy. As an adult, he reflected back on his childhood and his family members and realized they were wounded deeply too. Like a vicious cycle, the wounded inflicted wounds on others, incapable to know anything else. They were in bondage. Wounds are powerful.
What astounds me, however, is how immeasurably more powerful God’s healing is in a life. I always thought of healing in a physical sense. I mean, you hear stories of God miraculously healing someone of cancer, or a car being smashed into the size of a soccer ball and the passengers of the car all making it out alive, but lately I’ve been thinking about the miraculous healing God does in a life, in perhaps, ways that aren’t often viewed enough as miraclulous healings. God has done some awesome healing in my life. As time goes on, and I’m realize more and more the depth of what makes me who I am. The good, the bad, the ugly. That’s me. I have been realizing how much I have yet to let go to God, always forgetting that He already knows all of me and that it is more safe than I can ever imagine to trust Him. I have wounds. He’s healed a lot of them. I still have more. He’s ready. I’m thankful that God is someone who is and will always be. He has healed and is healing. He has redeemed, and is redeeming. Yup, God is good.