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I’m not quite sure what ‘healing’ is. It seems like each time I begin to heal, something else comes along to damage me.

“Damage.” An interesting word. And idea. That somehow I started out perfect, and then got mangled and ‘ruined’ along the way. A ruined heart: Not a comforting thought. Not much of a gift. At least, according to the books.

Dating books told me to keep my heart spotless. That if I did everything perfectly and ‘followed God’ that I’d meet that perfect guy, he’d date me, and we’d get married. The reality is that we live in a broken world. A painful world. A world that, no matter how careful you are, you most likely will get hurt.

But let’s go back to the idea of being ‘damaged.’ The dating books made me feel damaged. I couldn’t escape the hurt inside of me. I couldn’t get it to go away. Sometimes it would be submerged, only to be brought back to the surface when something else painful came into my life.

Jesus was ‘damaged.’ Did you know that, dear heart? He was mangled, so much so that He was unrecognizable. He was abandoned and betrayed. He was humiliated. He was beaten.

Jesus knows. He understands. His scars are beautiful. And they will last for eternity.

To heal. I don’t yet know how. So many poisons in my bloodstream, so many nightmarish words I battle against. There’s no magic formula. It’s not a matter of ‘time.’ Somehow, some way, it’s a matter of Jesus. My Healer. Heal me. Please Lord, heal me.

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