He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Psalm 147:3 ESV
I see him bent over, robed in burlap tied with braided rope. Feet bare, humbly on his knees. A basin of water sits by his side. I wonder, did he get the water himself? Draw it up, heave it up the stairs leading to the upper room. Gently washing his disciples feet, washing feet of those that would soon betray and deny. This, mere hours before he takes on my wounds, your wounds, the weight of the world in the form of darkness and sin.
His wounds lay gaped open for all to see.
But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds WE ARE HEALED. Isaiah 53:5 ESV (emphasis mine)
This image brings me to my knees.
By his wounds I am healed. By his wounds you are healed.
How quickly I get caught up in life, caught up in my own wounds, this image tamped down, hidden by selfishness and greed. My own self-centeredness.
I am no different than the one who denies, betrays him, the very Son of God. Is not my own tamping down of his wounds betrayal? Denial of The One who paid it all for me?
Yet, I am greedy for the healing. Paying little heed to the very wounding that gives life.
I am greedy for the peace that comes in the healing.
Greedy for the mercy and the grace.
This has been a season of healing for us. Wounds searing heart and marrow and bone. I wrote about that here.
I’ve rolled over Kaitlyn Bouchillon’s words a thousand times and more.
“even if…I still will.” Habakuk 3:17-19
I’ve tried to convince myself, had the healing not come, could I still whisper them? I’d like to think I could.
Often through my day, I think of my own healing. Healing that came not in the physical but in the soul. The many times I whispered these very words, “even if…I still will.” Whispered them over my own brokenness. Whispered them as a mantra, reminding myself of the One who heals all wounds.
Heals through yielding to his own wounding.
For me. For you.
Coming September 26th this sweet little book. I am humbled to be tucked somewhere among the pages.
Gifts of Grace