I received 3 bullet wounds that night…my upper arm, my left breast and my neck…with one of the bullets grazing my chin. The doctors did sew up my chin, but all the other wounds had to be cleaned and left to heal from the inside out.
I have been thinking about how deep emotional wounds also have to heal from the inside out. It's not that some dressing and caring on the top layer isn't absolutely necessary, but how often we try to sew over the outside in a quick fix kind of way.
The cure for what ails us is often VERY painful. But there will be pain whether we choose to stand still or move forward…so I think I'll opt for the pain with a purpose (moving forward), and let God minister to those deep wounds in anticipation of complete healing from the inside out.
It's funny (strange not "ha ha") that reading the first paragraph makes me uncomfortable. I don't really know why, as everyone who reads this blog probably already knows that about me. I have also noticed that I still only want to talk about it when I want to and not be asked questions—about anything that has to do with this. I can often feel a flash of anger when someone innocently asks a question to clarify something I've said or extract more information. I can feel myself shut down and disengage. It's like discussing it is so personal—too personal to have anyone make comments or assumptions. It is something I should be talking about with Todd and no one else. I hope one day *it* (the awful memories of that weekend) will have no power over me what-so-ever.