Wounded: A Prayer

For He wounds, but He binds up;
He shatters, but His hands heal.

—Job 5:18

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He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.

—Psalm 147:3

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For I will restore health to you,
and your wounds I will heal,
declares the Lord,
because they have called you an outcast:
‘It is Zion, for whom no one cares!’

—Jeremiah 30:17

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He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed. For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.

—I Peter 2:24-25

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O, beloved. (extra gentle, fervently pressing in) I cherish you. (strong) I think you’re entirely lovely, and there’s nothing you can say or do or…think or feel that will convince me otherwise. (firm but gentle) Your vision is blurry just now, because of these tears, my love, but what you’re lamenting over has already been purged and removed as far away from you as the East is from the West by our good and gracious Savior, Jesus Christ. He’s already finished His work here on earth, and He now sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty…waiting, patiently to receive His bride. He…has…caught us up in His arms, beloved, He’s removed all the thorns we got stuck deep inside our flesh as we wandered…and now…He’s begun the restoration process of healing…but the wounds aren’t fully healed yet. They’re still painful, and we still bump up against things and feel the sharp pains again, just like when the thorns were inside us. These things you mention…they…frighten you, they frustrate you and cause you fear…but they are not you, beloved. (extra tender) They have already been conquered by Him. He’s making them more and more prevalent in your consciousness—in your spirit—so that your love for Him might only become that much more fervent, exuberant, adoring, yes? (tender) You. Are. Loved. (strong)

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O, Lord—I’m wounded. (weeping before Him)

I hurt all the time.

I know such pain. I feel lost and confused and disoriented. I stumble around aimlessly, hoping you will come and rescue me.

I’m not whole; I’m broken. I’m not full; I’m empty.

My wounds, Lord, they gape and ooze, and I fear the yuck from inside will contaminate all who dare come near me. (aching)

The thorns that caused these wounds…I guess You have already removed, is that right? (timid, hesitant) Thank you for doing so for me, Lord. I…know I don’t seem thankful much of the time, but I am…am trying to be, want to be thankful.

Thank you for wiping my tears away like my beloved does. Thank you for showing me Your goodness in him. Thank you for being tender like him too, and strong but gentle.

You were wounded too, yes, Beloved? (gentle) You know what it feels like? How much it all hurts here? And Your wounds have—somehow, miraculously—healed me? (perplexed, amazed, in awe, reverent, pondering, still not really understanding very well)

O, Lord—I am nothing apart from you. I would…walk myself off a cliff or into a lion’s den or something equally hazardous if not for Your constant care. I am such a dimwitted sheep with no hope apart from You, my Good Shepherd.

O, God—please be my help. Please don’t give up on me or run away from me. Please hold me tightly, tenderly—and don’t let me go. Please bind up my wounds; help them to heal—help me to heal. I…I…ache. I ache all the time.

I wish I felt better now, more hopeful…but the truth is I’m still hurting just as much now as I did before. I…despise myself. I am ashamed. I am tired of my own sin, my own heart. And I am helpless to make anything better on my own.

Please have mercy upon me, upon us, O, God? (desperate) Please fix all that is broken and make clean all that is dirty and shine light on all that is dark? Please teach us how to love like You do, with Your Love? (in utter pain)

I want You to come now. I want to see You and hear You and be in Your arms. I don’t want to wait, please? I want You to heal me in an instant, not have to give the healing process time to work. (pouting, ashamed)

O, Lord—do You see how prideful and impatient and ugly I am? I want to submit and surrender, but I can’t, I don’t…(sigh)…and my words…I want them to be elegant and trusting and hopeful, and instead they are…full of self-pity and shame and frustration. (grieving) Why You love me…I’ll never know…(weeping)…

I’m frustrated and fearful. I have no hope apart from You. I…(weeping)…everything fails me, even my words…

O, Lord—please find me and rescue me in Your great mercy and tenderness.

Amen.