Healing

Photo by Diana Polekhina on Unsplash

 

As a former athlete and musical theater participant, you would think I’d be graceful and coordinated.

This is not the case. I’m kinda clumsy. In fact, as a teenager, my church youth group nicknamed me “Niagara” as in, “Niagara Falls.”

I’m not better. I still have a scar on my thumb where I tried to open a cinnamon roll can with a knife. I have several burn scars from my stints in food service (and one from a fireplace). I’ve tripped four times on my morning jog- once while running from zombies (long story).

The last time I tripped, I stepped off a sidewalk onto an uneven brick-paved road. I tried to jump up and continue my run, but I had scraped up my arm and leg and hurt my ego as well as my body.

I walked home and cleaned myself up. It was ugly to look at. It hurt to walk. But every day the wounds shrunk and the pain was less, until only a scar was left.

The pain after my fall let me know I needed to clean up and bandage my wounds. After that, as long as I continued to take care of myself, it healed with time.

All pain has a purpose. It tells us something is wrong and needs to be addressed. Even if you do everything right, life hurts sometimes. As long as we don’t let the infection of bitterness or self-pity to set in, time will heal. Even if it leaves a scar.