I hate rape! I hate killings! I hate stabbings! I hate robbery! I hate meanness and ugliness, just for meanness and ugliness sake! I hate illness and I hate diseases.......
I hate lots of things that have gone on that I wish had not! LOTS! LOTS!!!
We live in a crooked world, and just get knocked crooked a whole lot of times on the paths of our journey as we're walking along. Sometimes we choose crooked, or crooked chooses us.... Either way, we often end up knocked crooked and then are left having to deal with it.
Torn ligaments are painful to walk on after the tear, broken bones need healing, wounds need tending, holes need mending, bruises HURT because there's bleeding under the skin..... Isn't it amazing how many wounds there are that can't be seen to the naked eye, yet causes the one wounded to hobble or to walk funny without obvious reasons to the person observing them?
Some wear a frown and a furrowed brow. Some snarl and growl. Some bite and hit. Some smile, wearing the disguise, yet carrying inside them an "I'm-crying-inside-but-nobody-knows-it-but-me" heart. Some lick their wounds and nurse it their entire lifetime, rocking its sorrow and singing the tune of its blues. Some laugh, but it's fake and loud in its attempt to cover. Some dare another person to get close to it, and snap in attempts to bite them if they try to. Some dress the wounds while constantly picking the scab to make it bleed. Some run like crazy, bursting it open again and again at their crazed incited accident-waiting-to-happen lunacy. Few, only a few, will take it to The Great Physician Himself and allow Him to wash it and clean it, stitch it and sew it, anoint it and dress it, and allow Him to bandage it and tend to it until it's completely and totally healed.... leaving the "few" to wear it as a testimony to The King! The scar still shines as its 'Purple Heart Medallion,' its medal of honor pin, testifying to the soldier's valor, his combat in the fight, his bravery to do what must be done for victory to come. Oh, these 'few' may walk with their limp, but(!) they'll walk with their heads held high, with security in their steps, with joy in their hearts, peace in their minds, and smiles on their faces that bear the marks of a resurrected life because of the one they left behind and chose not to swim in for the rest of their days appointed on this earth. They'll choose to live for the next life, and not die daily in their this one.
I could not resist. I had to pause here to go look up the Purple Heart. Here's what I found: "The PURPLE HEART is awarded to members of the armed forces of the U.S. who are wounded by an instrument of war in the hands of the enemy and posthumously to the the next of kin in the name of those who are killed in action or die of wounds received in action."
When we're wounded, may we allow our Great Physician to heal us, and may we wear our Purple-Hearts to display and honor our King! May we combat the enemy.. and fight for our freedom, because freedom never has, and never will, be free!
"In the thirty-ninth year of his reign Asa was afflicted with a disease in his feet. Though his disease was severe, even in his illness he did not seek help from the LORD, but only from the physicians." (2 Chron 16:12).
Wow! And Asa died because of it! Let us not be guilty of such!.. of going to a doctor, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or counselor, even a friend,... but not go to the Lord, the Great Physician, Himself! No matter what you've done, or has been done to you, Jesus Himself CAN (and wants to!) heal it!