A WOUND DRESSER’S RESUME
Can you believe it?
I actually asked God to make me a Wound Dresser.
What was I thinking?
My prayer seemed so spiritual at the time.
I smile and shake my head today—remembering. Little did I understand the mountain of “woundings” that would come with God’s “Yes.” And, this roller coaster… this assignment of His!
QUALIFICATIONS AND PREPARATIONS FOR A WOUNDRESSER:
You know that cute little question, “Got milk?”
Yeah, well my question to you goes like this:
- “Got a painful past?” or maybe,
- “Got a trail of tears and broken dreams?”
- Or, “Got so much guilt and shame you hate the mess you see in the mirror?”
Congratulations, you too, have all the qualities and experience required to be called as a woundresser!
My “prep” for this Calling:
- I asked Jesus into my heart at seven while at a Christian summer camp.
- That was the year my mother “bailed” on our family, announcing that she would no longer be responsible for being a wife, or mother.
- For me, childhood was over. At seven I began my job as the female caregiver of the family.
- Five years earlier My mother had had an affair with the pastor of our church and gotten pregnant by him.
- Our family put on a good public face, still went to church, but we were very BROKEN from that point on.
- Mom simply stated to me years later, “No forgiveness ever asked for. No forgiveness was ever given.”
- Dad regularly reminded all of us, he would also be “bailing” just as soon as the youngest was done with school.
- Meanwhile, we lived with their daily battles, and constant threats of abandonment, from the only one, doing any parenting.
- Like I said in an earlier devotional, I have lived with angry people all of my life. Angry was my normal.
- Grew up in a fire-breathing church, where I heard about hell and the anger of God, but little about His love.
- God is just like your angry father… okay, check.
- Shook the hometown dust off my shoes and went down the prodigal road.
- I believed God was “out there” somewhere—but He sure didn’t care what happened to me.
- If my father, who I could see didn’t care, why would a God I couldn’t see care? Check.
- Lived a wild life for ten years doing my own thing and I’ve got the scars to prove it!
- There were several car crashes I miraculously walked away from.
- Years of ongoing depression episodes that had me thinking suicide was my only option for relief.
- (Yes, you’re right. Some drown. Some are rescued. I don’t know why. Two of my cousins took their own lives.)
- I, too, have had years of prescriptions for tranquilizers and muscle relaxers looking for any relief.
- More years trying to drown all the pain in alcohol. I felt like I was the one drowning. But the pain? Lived on.
- I won’t even go into all the “joys” of living as a “liberated” woman. What a lie that was!
- At twenty-eight, after another night of heavy drinking, I awoke to find I had passed out leaving candles burning and almost set my place on fire.
- Realized I could have set the building on fire and hurt a lot of innocent people in the process.
- This is where I hit the bottom.
- I made a “private plan” to end my life and be “done” because I saw no hope—anywhere.
- I grew up in “church”; saw the hypocrisy; wanted no part of that again.
- I simply wanted my pain to end. If it meant ending me—so be it.
God, however, had another plan.
Like the Apostle Paul, I had my own Damascus Road encounter with God. (See Coram Deo)
He showed up.
I believe, He showed up because He saw one beleaguered girl, searching for love in all the wrong places.
He showed up because He knew I didn’t have a clue about who He really was.
And He showed up because He knew I wasn’t going to come to Him.
In short this prodigal had to be—fetched.
I didn’t come to my senses like in the story of the prodigal son. [Luke 15] Nope.
In my story, I am like that lost sheep.
The one where Jesus tells of leaving the ninety-and-nine “good” sheep, to go out and rescue the one who has wandered away.
God had to come after me because, just like Paul, I was so sure I knew who God was.
And, just like His Apostle I was certain—God didn’t care where I was, or what I did. So He decided to show up that day and introduce Himself. He barged in on all my “certainty” and shook me up so profoundly, I couldn’t ignore Him anymore even though secretly? I think I still wanted to.
Instead, He tenderly took this battered old heart of mine and began to teach me about His deep and abiding LOVE for me.
And, wonder of wonders, He also began to reveal how He wanted to take all the broken pieces of my life and use them.
Use them? My life. (It still stuns me!) How could a Holy God use such an unholy mess like me? When I looked at my past I saw only a junkyard—full of broken, wrecked, dreams. But when God looked at me… He saw potential for His purposes.
His Love is mercy wrapped in GRACE—and it is SO undeserved.
And, so amazing!