Healing Our Hearts

I am a Registered Nurse and I work at a Wound Care Center. We take care of chronic wounds.  You might ask, what is a chronic wound?  It is a wound that has not shown the ability to heal over a two week period or longer. Some people come to us who have had a wound present for months, or even years. The longer the wound has been present the longer it takes to heal. Usually the body has accepted the wound as normal and the healing process has shut down. These wounds may not be very large, but they cause daily discomfort and disrupt the patient’s life.

The first thing the doctor will do to stimulate healing is to debride the wound, removing the dead tissue. The patient’s body realizes something has changed and that signals the release of an entire cascade of healing properties. Many people ask, “Can’t you just sew it up?” The answer is no. The tissues in a chronic wound will not “knit” together as they do when the wound is only hours old.  When a wound has been open for days, weeks or months it must heal from the inside out. The body will generate new tissue in the base and once that tissue has built up to skin level, the top layer of skin will grow across and close the wound. This process will only occur with adequate blood flow, absence of infection and the proper bandage.

“O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me.” – Psalm 30:2

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

Spiritually, many of us walk around with chronic wounds. We have hurts and disappointments that plague us daily.  Although well intentioned, our “home remedies” can’t provide the desired healing.  For example, we may decide to ignore the wound and assume it will go away.  The spiritual wound becomes deeper and disrupts our daily walk with God and others.

Obedience to the scripture, “Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry” (Ephesians 4:26), is much like going to the ER and getting stitches right away for quick healing.  When we don’t obey the scriptures, we allow our hearts to become infected with bitterness, envy, anger or jealousy.  Our hearts become similar to a chronic wound.  The only way we will heal is to ask for God’s help. We must allow God to cut away all the bitterness and resentment that has become attached to our heart. God will heal us from the inside out.  Just as a wound must have good blood flow to have a chance to heal, we must give ourselves to prayer to overcome sin’s deceitfulness. We do not expect a chronic wound to heal when it is simply left open to air. Likewise, we can’t expect our heart to heal if we leave it unprotected and open to Satan’s attacks. God’s holy word is the best protective bandage to be applied to our heart.

Is it time to heal a chronic wound in your heart? Make an appointment with the “Great Physician”.

Dear Father, come into our hearts and heal our brokenness.  We surrender ourselves to you and we place our hearts before you to cut away all those things that do not reflect your Spirit. We want to experience being alive in Christ and know the fullness of your love.  In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Terry Smith

Stephenville, Texas

I Want to be a Parent...I Think.

Our spiritual formation group meets every Sunday evening.  We are currently working through Philip Yancey’s book Reaching for the Invisible God.  It is a terrific read and has stimulated our thinking about what it means to be a person of faith.  

Last Sunday we discussed the idea of spiritual maturity as something akin to what life is like when we become parents.  We tossed around the differences between living like children and what life is like when we become parents.  The following comment made it to the floor more than once:  being “good parents” demands that we think ultimately in terms of what love really means and, mature love will often put us in situations in which we have to place the needs of others before our own needs.  

On pp. 245-46 Yancey writes: 

Christians best influence the world by sacrificial love, the most effective way truly to change a world.  Parents express love by staying up all night with sick children, working two jobs to pay school expenses, sacrificing their own desires for the sake of their children’s.  And every person who follows Jesus learns a similar pattern.  God’s kingdom gives itself away, in love, for that is precisely what God did for us. 

Some college students strike out for the wilderness or take up meditation in order to “discover themselves.”  Jesus suggests that we discover that self not by staring inward but by gazing outward, not through introspection but through acts of love.  No one can grasp how to be a parent by reading books before the birth of a child.  You learn the role by doing a thousand mundane acts; calling the doctor during illness, preparing for the first day of school, playing catch in the backyard, consoling hurts and defusing tantrums.  A spiritual parent goes through the same process.  In the end, Jesus’ prediction –“Whoever loses his life will preserve it” – proves true for downward surrender leads upward.   

Parenting has its share of joys.  But, it has its challenges, too.  Someone remarked, ”Some adults never become good parents because they can’t leave the “childhood” (selfish!) stage.”  Their point was simply that there is still too much selfishness in them to turn loose and focus on the needs of other people – even their own children.  What is true of biological families and parenting in particular can be true of believers with respect to our “stuckness” in faith growth.  

Diana West in her book The Death of the Grown-up:  How America's Arrested Development is Bringing Down Western Civilization (p. 2) says: 

“One third of the fifty-six million Americans sitting down to watch Sponge Bob Square Pants on Nickelodeon each month in 2002 were between the ages of eighteen and forty-nine.  (Nickelodeon's core demographic group is between the ages of six and eleven!)  These are grown-ups who haven't left childhood. Then again, why should they?  As movie producer and former Universal marketing executive Kathy Jones put it, "There isn't any clear demarcation of what's for parents and what's for kids.  We like the same music, we dress similarly."

Our comments strike at the heart of not only what is happening in our culture but the traffic circle of childish thinking that so many men and women are lost in.  Our culture provides every kind of stimulation for keeping us away from “parent-stage” spirituality.  

We concluded our discussion time by reflecting on Mark 10:32-45 and Matthew 5:1-16.  Jesus’ discussion with the disciples and his opening remarks in the Sermon on the Mount reminded us again that kingdom living is about leaving childhood and moving into parent-stage spirituality.   Jesus said this is what “greatness” looks like in the kingdom of God and it is what keeps salt salty and light shining.  

Father, help us grow up in the Spirit.  May we marry good intentions to actions that will take us away from childishness in its many forms and into a “grown-up” faith that looks more like you, our spiritual parent.  We are your offspring and we know that you rejoice to see us grow up in your likeness.  Amen.

Randy Daugherty

Stephenville, Texas

Shuffling through the Clutter

I went through a phase a few weeks ago, in which I couldn't sleep in my own bed. I live alone,

quite comfortably, in a female Residence Hall at Abilene Christian University. My little

apartment is just the right size for me. However, after I returned from Spring Break, I found that

I had developed a strong aversion to my bed. I didn't want to sleep in it. I didn't even want to go

in my bedroom. I just kept the door shut for two weeks, at least, only entering to change clothes

or grab needed items.

I made camp on my couch. It's cozy; I bought it at an antique store and it didn't put any pressure on my pocketbook. It's Depression-era, and I've never seen another couch that looks quite like it.  I moved all my pillows and blankets into the living room and stayed there for nights in a row. I couldn't figure out why I felt suspicious of my bedroom, but I knew I felt more at peace with sleeping on the couch. So I decided I'd just stay as long as I needed to. 

There were moments when my domestic changes were a little embarrassing. My friend, Bryson, came over for some coffee one afternoon and I'd forgotten to hide my bed clothes in the bedroom, their proper home. I noticed him eying the couch, probably wondering who'd been sleeping there, or why I was.  My quirk was exposed. I found myself wanting to rush an explanation, to say that I'd been  napping there, that a friend had needed a place to stay, that I was changing the sheets on the bed.  Finally, I just moved the pile of blankets and pillows and said that I'd been sleeping on my couch  because I couldn't sleep in my bed, for some unknown reason. His response was simple, "That  happens to me sometimes, too. And I'm never quite sure why, either."

What a relief. And what a trivial thing to get so worked up about. I went in my room later and

looked around. And then I felt foolish, because the reason I was avoiding my room was strewn

all over the place. Piles of books sat haphazardly shoved against the wall. Clothes lay in piles all

over the floor. Emptied purses hung on door knobs. A suitcase I'd unpacked halfway from Spring

Break was in the middle of the bed. A few glasses of unfinished drinks sat in various places

around the room. In short, my room was a wreck.

I didn't want to face the mess. I couldn't be around it. I couldn't even live life the way that I

normally do because the mess stressed me out too much and I had no time to clean it up, anyway.

It isn't particularly profound, but it made me think of the way that I hide my internal messes, too.

When there is something going on deep inside of me, when I have secret sin, when I am sad,

lonely, angry, confused, jealous, hurting, experiencing negative thoughts, I shut down that part of

myself. I close the door and go sleep somewhere else. I avoid it as long as possible, because

figuring out how to fix it takes time that I don't have and energy that I'd rather spend on

something less painful. So I ignore it.

But there are always the friends who stumble upon the clues. There are always the people who

see the bed clothes that I accidentally left out in my hastiness. There are the people who notice

them, glance over at them occasionally, and usually try to be polite and either act like they didn't

notice, or ask about them in a roundabout way. But in the moments when I choose to

acknowledge the clues, too, and to be open and transparent about what they are pointing toward,

that friend almost always responds with, "That happens to me sometimes, too. And I'm never

quite sure why, either."

I eventually cleaned my room and started sleeping in my bed again last Thursday. While this is

easily the cheesiest analogy I've ever concocted, it's reflective of a simple truth. I can't let those

things, those cluttered messes inside of myself, collect dust and allow me to change who I am or

how I should live because I don't want to deal with them. I can't ignore them. And when

someone picks up on the clues that something is going on in there, I have to be open and honest.

I have to be confessional. If I don't, I'm avoiding true community with people I love and trust and

who have their eyes ultimately fixed on things above, too.

My way would be to keep the bedroom door shut and keep sleeping on the couch, because it's

easier. Psalm 119:59-61 says, "When I think on my ways, / I turn my feet to your testimonies; / I

hasten and do not delay to keep your commandments. / Though the cords of the wicked ensnare

me, / I do not forget your law." From now on when the clutter starts to build up, I'm going to

start cleaning it before it gets out of hand. In fact, I'm committing to giving it a little attention

everyday, so it doesn't gain control over my life. The Lord's ways are higher than mine, and I'll

willingly wade through the clutter if it means that I can walk peacefully in His testimonies at the

end of the day.

Father,

Teach us to open up the places within ourselves that are cluttered with things that we don't want

to see or fix or shed light on. Give us spirits of hope and perseverance, that we may come to our

senses and move beyond hiding away pains and pasts and things that we'd like to pretend never

existed. Walk with us as we wade through the clutter. Help us as we pick it up and put it in its

proper place. Help us to be disciplined and to work through the things that we need to work

through daily, instead of suppressing them and letting them build up. Thank you for being a God

who makes us clean and pure and who does not leave us to rely on our own ways and

understandings. We love you.

Amen

Erin Daugherty, Abilene Christian University