The Binder of My Wounds

Jeremy married a very broken girl almost 27 years ago. In him, God graced me with exactly what I needed in that particular season. He was patient and steady and offered unconditional love and acceptance. He saw in me what I couldn’t see in myself. And I came to believe that he was the salve God had provided to heal my woundedness. Perhaps, for a time, he was. But when Jeremy died, almost immediately, it was as if every old wound opened back up. Suddenly, I became the frightened and insecure child I thought was long in the past. I had lost my bandage and my broken heart felt exposed.

Years ago, following our daughter’s open heart surgery, they were unable to close her chest, so they sewed a patch over her sternum and sent her to the PICU. For two months, we cleaned and packed that wound, in hopes that it would heal from the inside out. Any other way could cause infection or the reopening of the wound, they explained. So her daddy and I took on the unpleasant task of wound care, out of love for our daughter. My friend came to visit once, and fainted at the sight of our little Karissa in that condition. And who could blame her? It was horrific.

Losing my husband resulted in the reopening of many unhealed places in my heart, including the deep soul-wound of losing Karissa. The infection of loss seeped out all over me, my children and those closest to me. I begged God for another bandage. But this time he said “no.” This time, he chose to leave the wounds exposed so He could heal them. Properly. Completely. From the inside out.

I won’t lie. I haven’t entirely enjoyed the process. Debriding is excruciating. Cleaning and packing a wound is grotesque and some relationships have fainted at my vulnerability. But not my Abba. He pressed in, cleaning and purging and soothing each once-forgotten place. Out of love for his daughter.

You see, the real Good Samaritan in the story is Jesus. He loves the unlovely, enters our suffering, binds our wounds, offers all that He has, pays any price. He carries us when we can’t go on and restores us to right standing. Only His unconditional love is enough to make the wounded whole. Only His grace can offer abundant life. Only He can heal us from the inside out.

Honestly, I’m not certain every incision is fully healed to a silver scar just yet. There are some days I’d still like a bandage. But this I do know: I’m not the girl I was 27 years ago. I’m not even the girl I was two years ago. I’m ever so much more than my scars. At my weakest, I found His power. At my most vulnerable, I found his protection. In my emotional and spiritual poverty, I found His provision.

And in my brokenness, I find His healing.

October 31, 2023

Psalm 147:3 – He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.