It's pages are covered with little pieces of my soul. And on page sixteen is a quote from Richard Rohr.
"You are often most gifted to heal others precisely where you yourself were wounded."
I often pray that is the case. I pray that somehow my words touch someone's heart - someone who needs them. And perhaps there is a selfish part to that wish...because I don't want my wounds to be in vain.
While I know the brevity of our lives here, and have seen it's uncertainty firsthand, there is part of me that is certain that my wounds are not simply my own. They do not belong to me, to hide and nurse alone. Because, as I heal, perhaps I can heal others.
My heart has been wounded.
Loss, grief, disappointment, fear, loneliness, anger, hurt. A loss of innocent faith....
My heart has been wounded. But, it has also been healed. By God, by the kindness of friends and strangers alike, and by love.
It has not healed without scars, without small tears that are testament to the fact that it has been pieced back together...but that's OK.
And it is OK for you to be wounded.
One of the things hardest to swallow during the last few years has been the platitudes. I looked at Casanova one morning after church and said, "If one more person tells me that God needed another rose in his garden...and that's why he had to take my baby - I will probably deck them."
We do not have to pretend that these awful wounds don't hurt. We do not have to fear that we are less Godly - that our faith is insufficient - if we admit the depth of our pain.
I keep thinking about I Peter 3:15. "Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have."
My answer is not one of constant happiness, but of immeasurable blessings interspersed with incredible trials. Part of my answer is the wounds.
"And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast."
I Peter 5:10