Wounds and Burdens Made Useful

There are times where I go back and read the posts I write on here.  Honestly, one of the main reasons I write is to try and organize thoughts on paper out of my jumbled mind and hope that I can glorify the Lord and share what is inside with some folks who are willing to read.  Yet, there is a theme in everything that I write--I am a man broken beyond belief! (Case in point)  Probably half the things I write either directly or indirectly revolve around my wounds and/or my sin.  Now, of course, there is always a hopeful ending, but there is a lot of sifting through the mud before I can reach such an ending, which is indicative of life in general.  There is a lot of struggle here--I even struggle to believe that my struggles are legitimate and not foolish or juvenile.


I do have high expectations for myself; I have high expectations for my life--Yet these often get dashed to pieces by my Sovereign who is guiding my steps for Himself.  That is a harsh sentence for anyone (including myself) to swallow.  One may want to choose a softer phrase than "dashed to pieces."  One who is more bitter toward God may be tempted to replace "Sovereign" with "Tyrant".  But our disillusionment and disappointment is far too bitter to be sugarcoated, and our Lord was good yesterday as He is today and will be tomorrow.  It is in that middle ground that we live (and I write).

Much to our dismay, that is where we are mostly going to stay this side of Heaven.  We are too sinful and this world is too broken for us to hold on to the pipe-dream that "everything gets better."  Failure and loneliness will pervade every aspect of life, everyday.  Our wounds, even as Christians, are still agape here as we wait--with wavering patience at times--for our salvation to be made complete by our King's return.  This waiting is not easy.  We, and even the most faithful of saints, can go to sleep unable to fully believe that His mercies will be new the next morning.

Since it was just Father's Day, let's use that as a lens to look at our brokenness.  Some of us have had fathers that passed away too soon; some have had fathers bail on us and our families, even before they were known; some have had one that's physically present yet emotionally cold, or even worse, abusive; some of us are ignorant or ungrateful children that don't know what our fathers have done for their families.  Along with that, some of us truly want to be fathers and husbands (or want someone to be their husband and father to their children).  Some of us who are fathers have seen our sin hurt our families or see the complete inability to be the fathers (and men in general) that we want to be.

Empty apartments, distant spouses, divorced parents, dysfunctional families, tiresome jobs, dwindling bank accounts, failing health, thwarted plans, dying dreams--is there not something in each of our lives that makes us want to bury your face in our hands and ask God "Why?", "When?", "Who?", "Where?", and "How?" as we come to realize just how weak and alone we really are on this earth?

We are weak.  We are wounded.  These are facts even on the best of our days, so what are we to do?  Shoving them down with self-hatred or self-medication, or retreating into the shadows of our own despair are easily done yet leaves us just as devoid of fulfillment as before.  Hopefully, we can take the psalmist's example and echo "But I, O Lord, cry to You!" (Ps. 88:13; the tone of his words may be one of dereliction, but the Object of his words is one of faith), but how are we to take this internal, spiritual war and go and make disciples, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?

Now, it is no doubt that the Apostle Paul had is fair share of weaknesses and did his fair share of evangelizing.  His second letter to the Corinthians provides a long list of his hardships (2 Cor. 11:24-29) as well as mentioning his harassment from Satan in the thorn in his side (2 Cor. 12: 7-8).  He said he would much rather die and go home to Jesus than endure life in the flesh (Phil. 1:23).  Yet, in the midst of all this, he was faithful to his mission to the Gentiles, not necessarily in spite of, but through his weaknesses.

So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves [souls], because you had become very dear to us. (1 Thes. 2:8)

The Thessalonians surely heard the Gospel preached, yet they heard so much more from the men that came to them.  Surely they heard stories from Paul about his life and the hardships he had faced, possibly even what it was like to go from a Hebrew of Hebrews (Phil. 3:5) and persecutor of the Church to the apostle to the "Heathen."  They possibly heard of young Timothy's life, being the son of a Jewish Christian woman and a Greek man (Acts 16:3) and the hardships of leaving home as, in all likelihood, a teenager, to become a missionary.  These men were not robots who could only say "Repent!"  Their souls and lives surely resembled ours in more ways than we believe, and they shared them with those who would listen.

It is easy to "preach" the Gospel when it remains a superficial belief system to people you don't know or care about.  However, when we let the Gospel soak into our wounded souls, we start seeing the people we live with and work with for what they really are--men and women either dead in their sins in need of new life in Christ (like we once were), or your brothers and sisters in Christ whom we can be sure know what it's like to limp on in desperate need of heavenly strength.  How else can we win over non-believers who may have so many misconceptions about Christianity unless testify about the very wounds and weaknesses that plagued us and the Savior that beckons the tired, weak, and lonely to come and rest?  How can we encourage our brothers and sisters in the faith if they don't know that we've sat in the mire time and time again?  Share your souls, your wounds, your humanity.  That does not mean whimsically talk about them, but offer them.

"Remarks such as, 'Don't worry because I suffer from the same depression, confusion, and anxiety as you do,' help no one.  This spiritual exhibitionism adds little faith to little faith and creates narrow-mindedness instead of new perspectives.  Open wounds stink and do not heal (others).  Making one's own wounds a source of healing, therefore, does not call for a sharing of superficial personal pains, but for a constant willingness to see one's own pain and suffering as rising from the depth of the human condition we all share."  Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer

In this broken world, we are bound to have been dealt an unfair hand.  We have been wounded by others and we have been the one who did the wounding.  We all have heard Satan's brutal lies and felt him claw at our faith.  These are not trivial, forgettable instances that should be buried behind smiling facades.  These are our testimonies, the thorns in our sides.  We need not hide them or compare who has had a worse life, but proclaim that this is the part of hell that we've seen, and this is what makes us cry out Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!

I know what it is like to feel utterly ashamed of myself.  There are times where my shame is so deep that I get a sharp pain in the back my right shoulder like someone is trying to rip it out of my body by my shoulder blade.  I don't know why that happens to me or what that means on a psychological level, but it hurts, it's deep, but it can be useful.  It's what I have to fight staring at so I can look at my Savior who puts the garments of salvation around my shoulders (Is. 61:10).  Going to the grocery store is one of the most depressing parts of my week, as I go and spend my money to buy food that I have to cook by myself and eat by myself, which just reminds me of the loneliness of the bachelor life.  Yet, I endure the season and fight the temptation to believe that the Lord has something less than good for me.  I am deathly afraid that I will fail my way out of seminary or fail my way out of the pastorate (if I even make it there) and question the entirety of my faith and gifting.  But, if this is the Lord's calling for me, then I trust that He will see it through to completion.  While these Sunday school answers come quickly when I type them out, it is not so easy for me trust and believe that they are true or repent from the lies I choose to believe.

This is but a brief glance at my wounds; their depth and breadth are not to be plumbed here.  Our wounds are to be fleshed out in community, face-to-face with other people who know what it's like to be broken yet cling to the Cross of Christ.  What can my wounds do for you? I do not know--at times I am tempted to believe that I should just bury these things lest I flaunt them and gain attention.  Perhaps someone who struggles with the same things can find solace in the fact that they are not alone.  Or, maybe they can bear testimony about one who is clinging and waiting for Jesus with what little strength he has left.

You can always ask...