For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires.
Hebrews 4:12
In a rush, the reason I cannot now remember, I took down our small brick stairs leading from the kitchen into our carport. I’m still not sure what happened, but I toppled over forward from the top step. The type of forward meaning my shins landed on the edge of that last stair. Other than childbirth, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced pain like that.
I held my right leg as it took the brunt of the fall, and willed myself to take long, slow breaths until the pain subsided. Only, it never really subsided.
With my car already running to warm the motor, I had to devise a plan to get in, shut it off, and retrieve my keys so I could go back inside. Pulling my body weight around the concrete like a wounded animal, I managed to accomplish my goals. Once back inside, I realized the pain had gone from a 10 to about an 8, giving me the chance to put ice on my shin and decide what to do next.
In my current season of life, I have loved ones who have undergone routine surgeries. Knee replacements, hip replacements, and the occasional shoulder surgery seem to come as we age.
What ties their stories together—from severe, life-changing pain, to surgery, to finally healing—is just how much pain they had to push through during recovery.
When surgery is required, we know we will endure blood loss, financial loss, and a temporary, higher level of pain than before.
It’s sacrificial.
And sacrifice brings hope for something better.
A steadier walk. Less weariness. Life to the full.
But between the scalpel and better posture, there is recovery. Recovery that requires long-suffering and resolve to do whatever it takes.
Healing is painful.
Broken bones and broken hearts share in this truth. Broken trust and battered souls. Belittled memories and pushed around feelings.
All of it. All of it is susceptible to injury. To wear and tear. To weariness.
And some things won’t be fully healed this side of heaven.
Like my shin.
I didn’t seek medical attention. With a high pain tolerance in play, I rationalized that there was nothing a doctor could do to help me if I had fractured the bone.
I left it alone.
And in its own way, healing took place. But only partially. Each time I go for a pedicure at my local salon, and those sweet ladies move their strong hands along my shins, massaging my calves and hoping I will relax…I wince. No one else would ever know, but because I did not get help that day, I have a knot where the bone healed under my skin.
A knot that, when pressed on, reminds me of that awful fall. And the pride I held in not seeking help.
The word of God is sharp and hot and uncomfortable in the tender places that need healing.
It means business.
But some healing requires more than a business transaction or a therapy schedule.
The help we need is prescribed by a loving God who possesses a bedside manner that is unmatched. He knows exactly where to place His words for our healing, and He holds our hand through the process.
“In the beginning, the Word already existed.
The Word was with God,
and the Word was God.”
John 1:1
Don’t let those unhealed wounds fester. You know what they are. You can feel them through the skin, just beneath the surface.
Yes, healing is painful. Don’t be fooled into thinking otherwise.
And you may be left with a scar or, a tender place as a reminder of your injury.
Then…
This is your story.
Your story of healing. Of hope. Of help.
You will go on to refer others to the great physician. He may ask you to hold someone else’s hand as they heal. And your heart and shoulders will move squarely forward, because you took the time to seek help, rehabilitate, and welcome revival to your once painful places.
Yes, healing often comes with pain, but the end result when we do the work is always…always…worth it.
Simple Faith 