She was wounded.
She lived most of her life operating out of the broken places of her soul (heart). She needed help, but didn’t know where to turn.
As she continued to mask the pain, new wounds only added to the fire. She unknowingly vowed to herself not to let anyone too close to her heart. And she was true to her word.
She had broken pieces within herself that had died over the years but she never allowed herself to let go of them. She was holding onto death like it was a dear friend.
Although she did have One friend that she trusted, it was still so scary for her because she couldn’t see Him.
This friend continued to stick with her. He continued to whisper in her ear to keep going. He was the only One who truly loved her and who believed in her, even when she started to doubt in Him.
This friend heard her midnight cries. He was holding her every tear and her words so closely to His heart. He gently pulled her by His hand, picked her up when she was too weak to even move on her own and He laid her in the Presence of the only One that could ever help her overcome all of what she had endured. The only One that could really “fix her”. She sat there for what seemed like an eternity UNTIL something happened.
He asked her to open up her hands and when she did, it was a horrific site. There in the palm of both of her hands laid a big ball-formed wound. Words cannot describe the ugliness of what she was exposing. Some infected, some bloody and most half dead, the pain still oozing down her fingers.
Then she looked Him in the eyes and in that moment, everything changed for her. He reached down and took “it”. She was healed. He finally set her free from her wounded self. The only requirement for doing such a lofty thing was for her to go from there and to tell everyone that she could of what He had done for her. That’s it.
A few years later and the pain is still gone. The wounds are a distant memory for me and their power has been broken once and for all.