I may have written this post a good while ago (not long after Heritage died), but it feels just as fresh, and my wounds are picked open and oozing even now. But the point is this: the wounds are not for naught. These wounds will be redeemed. There is a reason that I can not see. And God wants me to use these wounds for Him, His glory and His Kingdom, and I can not sit here silently licking my wounds in a corner. He calls me to share them, to utilize them, not to waste them.
These wounds scab over, and they will scar someday. The pain and trouble they bring will change over time. That’s what God is in the whole business of doing. And I’m thankful to put my pain to good use.
The scar will be knit into my skin, reminding me that I am not the same as I was before. God tends to scar me over in particular ways, as though He were creating a pronounced alignment within my soul in a single direction, toward a specific goal. Each baby of mine that has died has left me with a gaping wound—and each one has also eventually left me with a pronounced scar. While the scars are most obvious to me—sometimes they even make me a little self-conscious, a little embarrassed, wondering if I stick out amongst the crowd—others notice the scars too. Some people comment on it, some people notice but keep it to themselves. I used to think I had to hide my scars, but now I know better: now I know that God did not give me these scars to be hidden away. They are not something to be ashamed of, but something to be utilized.
And so I wait for the scar—I wait for the relief that it will bring, for the hope it will carry, for the unique way God will use my newly knit skin for His glory. I am crying to Him for this blessing, and I trust His grace to extend to me in the form of healing. I have no control over when or how, but I believe His Word, and I know that His favor is for life, and He delights in bringing mornings of joy following night (Psalm 30:2-5). May I bleed and scab, scar and heal for the greatness of His mercy and the furthering of His Kingdom—may He give me pronounced singleness of direction as I toil for Him, even in this.
To read the rest, hop on over to Mommies With Hope, where I share Wounded straight from my own broken-yet-blessed heart.