Showing Our Owies

Kids are gathered around, bent down, looking intently and oo-ing and aahh-ing over a little girl holding her hurt knee. One of the boys points a grubby finger, exclaiming, “And, look, there’s BLOOD!” Kids bend down to look more closely and visibly cringe at the wonderful horror of it. The tears on the little girl’s cheeks are already drying, as she realizes this moment, being able to share her hurt, is actually helping her not to feel it so much.

As kids, it’s almost like getting a few minutes of fame when we can show our owies, our scars and our bruises. They’re like red -or black and blue- badges of courage that one can even walk and function normally with that healing wound on a knee or elbow. But, as we get older, there are wounds that cut deeper… there are internal injuries that bring shame to expose to another person.

I don’t know how we learn it, but as we get older, the things that knocked us down and nearly crushed us are not things we want other people to know about. We may be much more courageous than we look, but no one would know it, because we keep it to ourselves. It’s a tragedy, really, that it was so easy in our younger years to show what happened when we jumped off the swing, but keep to ourselves what happened when we had to keep going when illness, death, a child’s rebellion, divorce, or other nearly devastating things knocked the air out of our lungs.

“Prayer changes things” Yes, that is absolutely true, and I believe in the miraculous power of prayer. But, I have been in too many prayer meetings where the list of sick and hospitalized people rolled out like a scroll, but seldom have I heard someone bring up real heart issues that needed the prayer support of God’s people.

              “I’ve been struggling with loneliness since my wife died.”

              “My son has decided that he doesn’t believe in God anymore.”

              “My wife and I have been so busy with work and keeping the kids alive that we’ve forgotten how to love each other.”

              “I feel like I’ve failed as a mother.”

              “I have been single for 45 years and don’t know if I’m even worthy of love.”

God created me to be transparent. I can’t help it, I don’t do small talk very well. It annoys me, actually. I want to know what’s behind that lip-glossed smile and why it hasn’t reached your eyes. Living so far away from people I love has meant it’s hard to make those heart connections. But, I have found ways.

Because I have to communicate with many people I love far away via the internet (messenger, whatsapp, etc.), people who have struggled to make deep connections at those church meetings have opened up to me. Maybe it’s the kind of anonymity of typing out their heartaches rather than saying them out loud and face-to-face that makes it easier. And, when I rip off my band-aid to show what’s underneath, the person on the other end lets down her guard so that I can see what’s making her hurt. Then, we both know how to pray for, and with each other.

Connect to other people, friends. Rip off the band-aid… or slowly, millimeter by millimeter, letting someone else see that you’re not as put-together as you were trying to lead others to believe. You might find out that other person has an ow-ie they’ve been hiding, too. And, in that, and the miraculous power of sincere, heartfelt prayer, God will bring healing to you both.