A New Healing for an Old Wound

Through the Grace of God, so many wounds on my heart have been healed since the crash, particularly in the last couple years. After each major wound was cleansed, I would think to myself, “Wow! My heart is completely healed now! I feel so good; there couldn’t be any wounds left in here!” Then, a few months, weeks, days, or sometimes even only hours later, another scab would be ripped off, another wound would be opened, stinging in resistance to God’s Love. But I would let Him in, knowing I would feel much better after all of the pain and tears. I became accustomed to the pattern of acknowledging a wound, surrendering it to Jesus, allowing Him to heal me, and then being free from it and one step closer to experiencing the fullness of His Love. The wounds on my heart no longer frightened me; I trusted Jesus to take them away. But when it came to physical wounds, I didn’t want Jesus to take them away.

Suffering from chronic pain for the past six years, I don’t really know any different. When the pain was first brought on, I saw it as a burden. It kept me from my desires and turned comfort into an abstract idea. However, I was a stubborn girl and I was determined to overcome the struggles thrown in front of me. And I planned to do so without anyone’s help: not from friends, family, doctors, or even God. Fighting by myself, I felt isolated. When I failed again and again, my hope dwindled and I held it against myself. The pain I experienced seemed to be due to my weakness and it held no purpose.

Two years after the crash, I learned that I could offer my pain up for others. And, as I got to know Jesus, I was able to unite my sufferings with His. It gave me a sense of purpose, but I fell into believing it was my only purpose. I began to fear the absence of pain and prayed for more suffering. Three years later (last summer), I was nearly offended when someone told me Jesus didn’t want me to be suffering. How could that have been possible? Suffering was my thing. And, regardless of how I felt or how this person clamed Jesus felt, the pain was still there. If He didn’t want me to feel it, then what was I supposed to do? I had tried ignoring it before, but that got me into trouble because I would do things I wasn’t supposed to and more pain would be brought about. I was confused, but I believed it. Suffering is not good, but God brings good out of it. And He had brought a lot of good out of my own suffering. Knowing I was still attached, I began to pray for openness to physical healing.

A couple weeks ago, I questioned why this wound hadn’t healed the same way as the rest. It had been nine months and I still wasn’t open to healing. Clearly, I was not surrendering it to Jesus as I had the other ones. I was not truly trusting in Him. With the pain, I knew what to expect; without it, there was fear of the unknown. I took some time to put a name to those fears and those lies keeping me from desiring healing. It turned out there were a lot, including that:

-          I had nothing to offer the Lord but my pain

-          God wanted me to be suffering; He didn’t want me to be healed

-          I would be a coward if I wanted to part with the pain

-          If God took the pain away, that meant I was weak, defeated, and couldn’t handle it anymore

-          It would be selfish to give up my pain instead of offering it up

-          I wouldn’t be myself without the pain

-          God wouldn’t be interested in me without my pain, nor would anyone else

-          I would no longer know what true pain is

-          The pain I experience isn’t even that bad

-          I’m a wimp if I let the pain get to me

-          I can handle the pain on my own

After disposing of these lies in confession, I felt free from the attachment to the suffering, but I still wanted it. I was no longer afraid of losing it, but I still didn’t mind keeping it. But a couple days later, God reminded me of my vocational desires. I desire to raise children and to care for them, but in this state, I can’t practically do that. This has been a fear of mine for the past six years, but I figured God must have just had a different plan for me; I knew that whatever He was calling me to, I would be able to do with His Grace and Strength. I still believe this, but now understand that means I need to part with this physical pain. Instead of praying to be open to physical healing, I could truly start praying for physical healing. And I have been. I have been praying for a miracle, but through direction from others, am seeing the need to seek medical attention as well.

When the reality of going back to doctors sunk in, a lot of fears snuck in with it, including that:

-          The pain is all in my mind and the doctors will find nothing wrong with me

-          The doctors will find something and not be able to do anything about it

-          The doctors will be able to do something, but there will be no time for me to have it done and recover or I will be too far away from the required services

-          I’ve betrayed my job (FOCUS) because they thought I could handle this

-          Those who told me I couldn’t be a missionary were right, because I am too weak

Through some more direction and love from others, I was given more peace with these fears, both with the unreasonable and the reasonable. And, long story short, I’m finally seeking physical healing. Some of you who have known me for a long time might be shocked, but it’s for real. This whole process is new to me, though, and still terrifies me somewhat, so please pray for me! And I started writing a book on suffering, so pray for that, too.

And don’t ignore your own wounds. What lies and fears are you controlled by? Acknowledge them and recognize God’s Power over them. Surrender them to Him. He desires your complete happiness; let Him give it to you. He Loves you.

I mean.. maybe the pain isn't imaginary...?