Skip to main content

Why Do Christians Shoot Their Wounded?

           I attended one of the most amazing bible colleges money could pay for. I have a very expensive degree in biblical education that I only use to debate with my friends who also attended bible college and for my personal studies. Every now and then I feel the bible geek in me creep into random conversations and most are stunned. Like the day a close friend of mine texted saying she heard an elderly woman say, “God don’t bless mess.” It was a group chat and everyone laughed. I mean, it was funny. But then I went on a rant…

            “I really despise sayings like that. That’s not even biblically sound because I mean, who isn’t a mess. And who are you to tell me that God won’t bless me because I am broken. This is why people don’t go to church or trust in the Lord. Because of dumb sayings like that. I am a mess and somehow I keep waking up with breath in my lungs. That’s a blessing.”

            Well, these are not the friends that attended bible college with me so the group message went completely silent and no one spoke of it until days later. “You were so mad.” And I’m not recounting this awkward moment to boast in my education. I’ll admit, 50,000 dollars in debt later I am not the bible scholar I paid to be. However, my ministry is to the broken and guilty and ashamed. I know this because I fit perfectly in those categories. Me and ALL my MESS!

            When did we cross the line from being believers to police officers? When did we become more concerned about the struggle and less inclined to pray for healing? How did we earn the right to step on those trying to stand up? Because let me tell you, we have all seen rock bottom at some point. Yet when we get a few steps ahead we look down at those still there and shake our heads. When did we become the authority of God’s sovereignty? It is always clear to me that God looked at the least of them! When the apostles tried to push the children back he said “let them come to me.” The woman with the issue of blood had to press her way to him just to touch the hem of his garment and she was blessed. And what about the man laying at the pool who He made whole? READ. YOUR. BIBLE.

            I remember sitting in a classroom in college and my teacher had told us to order a book titled, “Why Do Christians Shoot Their Wounded?” I still have that book in my library and reference it often. It is a reminder to be gentle and kind towards those around me. And if I am honest, I am rough and mean. My mom tells me often. I used to be a cry baby but at some point in my life I stopped looking for reasons to wallow and be pitied and I started searching for results. Sure, I have my moments but they never last long. I want results. And with that mindset, I have to be intentional about how I treat others. Sometimes you have to comfort your hurt friends. Maybe they are not immediately seeking healing. Maybe they need a second to regroup. Maybe they like being broken. Whatever it is, I am required to handle them with care. That’s just what God has required of us.


            (sighs) I just really had to release that. If you’re reading this and you are in a storm or just beat down, remember to be kind to yourself. Remember that you were created in HIS image and that means whatever you do to yourself you are doing to Him. Give your wounds time to heal. And after you have your moment, PRESS forward. All you need is to touch the hem of his garment.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Love or Career?

“I met this boy when I was six years old and what I loved most he had so much soul…” So, I know Common was talking about Hip Hop, but this is my real life! I met… John (we’ll call him John) at… (John Elementary) when I was six. He was everything to me. He had pcurly hair and a beautiful smile. His skin was a soft caramel color and he played basketball. How could I not love him? I mean, I knew in that moment that we were going to be together forever. I told all my friends that he was mine. Knowing my mom was not having it, I still pretended. But I was a geek. I mean, like glasses, buck teeth, awkward dressing, horrible hair, and a weird shape. He didn’t love me back then. Well…apparently, awkward girls grow up to be pretty girls . With locs down my back, a crooked smile and full lips, and still rocking glasses, I ran into that boy…now man…and he all but chased me through the church. I have never felt more pursued in my entire adult life. It just so happens that the moment
4 comments
Read more

What will you do when what you've prayed for is staring you in the face?

“God ordered your steps. All you have to do is take a step.” Let me tell you about this one time that I got real comfortable and almost passed up on what I had been praying for. So here I am, finally finished with my undergrad after being tossed around for almost two years after my expected graduation date. Ok, maybe it wasn’t all to blame on the school. Some of it was my fault. My laziness. My comfort. My complacency. OK...more than some. Most. But anyway, thats not important. here’s what is… Aramark at Catholic University has been a HUGE blessing in my life. When my school closed back in 2012 I got a part time job at Payless and months later, that store closed as well. I had worked for Aramark throughout high school and my first semester in college. When Payless shut it’s doors, Aramark opened theirs. They actually created a position for me. Yes. A blessing from God. Plus, CUA is home for me. I had no issue transitioning. But at the same time, this was a job. No my career
5 comments
Read more

Forgiving Self

“ For millions of people, not every prison comes with a set of bars.”-R.A. Clark I had an idea about what forgiveness was. I thought it was moving on from any situation in which you’d been hurt. I was so off. One day I realized that I had a grocery list of unforgiveness. Not the week to week list; its that list that you make after not having been to the store in months because life got in the way. The refrigerator is bare. The only thing occupying it is baking soda, spoiled milk, and a stick of butter. When I looked around, the bare refrigerator paralleled my soul and when I looked at the long list, instead of food items being written there, I saw names. The offenses next to the names had at least 3 sub points. I was keeping score of every time I was hurt by each person. Interestingly enough, the record wasn't destroying the offenders, it was poisoning me . Something had to change. Transformation was necessary to my survival. I started asking questions to those tha
2 comments
Read more