It’s been eight years this September for us as we move away our earthquake and a pastor’s fall. Tonight I’m realizing how wounded I was in all of this. It’s a bit surprising to me. I’ve always been able to “suck it up” and carry on, but tonight I’m aware that, like so many in our church family, I was wounded as well and have never really been able to deal with it. I was one of the surviving pastors and had to take care of the flock. We just never had time to deal with our own wounds, our own pain.
Now, suddenly, I’m seeing how deep the wounds are for me as well. I’m seeing the bitterness that has crept into my mind and heart as I deal with things in the present tense. So far, I’m able to keep my mouth shut and not reveal what’s in my heart, but I need to deal with it and lay it at the feet of the cross or it will destroy me as well. That is something I will work on in the days ahead.
Tonight I’m just trying to honestly admit to my own wounds and admit I need healing as well. Wow, I thought I had dealt with all of this pretty well. Funny, isn’t it, how we tell ourselves we are doing fine when the truth is we are deeply wounded and just hoping someone else will notice and come to our rescue.