wounds

Today, was a “woundful” day – a day full of wounds.  My husband lost his father to cancer.  My heart aches.  It aches for my boys who will never go canoeing with their grandfather again or hear his corny jokes.  It aches for my grandchildren who will probably not remember their great grandfather at all but most importantly, it aches for my husband, who lost his parent, his mentor, his dad.

The “wound” in my heart, however, is not deep.  For you see, HOPE has covered it up.  Hope has bandaged my heart in that yes, it hurts that I will not EVER see Dad again here on earth - I  KNOW that he is now in the presence of His Savior with a new body and a new mind – that he isn’t confused anymore or anxious.  He is now perfect in every way, living in a perfect place – that covers my heart with HOPE everlasting!

I understand that “wounds” help – they teach, and mold.  They help us remember.  They change us, grow us.  Sometimes very precious and powerful things can only be done by the wounded.  Are you following me here?

Something is cut up, scraped, beaten or whipped off if there is a wound.  Wounds only happen with crashes, scuffles, when you fall or by someone else.  Sometimes we can wound ourselves on purpose, sometimes by accident.  No matter, wounds hurt.  Deep wounds scar. 

But how do they “help”?  There is an interesting verse in the Book of Isaiah (Chapter 53) about wounds:

Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered Him stricken by God, smitten by Him, and afflicted.

But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and

by His wounds we are healed.

Healed by wounds?  Punishment brings peace?  How can this be? 

Jesus Christ, the Hope of the world – was beaten, scourged (is a whip or lash, especially a multi-thong type ) and nailed to a cross.  His hands and feet were pierced.  He hung there, wounds and all, for you and for me.  His wounds healed us – the debt was paid.   Our sins forgiven, our peace restored.

This Good Friday, may you stop, still your heart and truly reflect on the wounds our Savior bore.  He bore those for you.  He bore those for me. 

Oh Lord, I am not worthy, but only say the word, and I shall be healed.