Identifying Soul-Wounds

We’ve been a bit discouraged lately. Three crops of great-looking calves have died. The vet says we’re deficient in some mineral so we’re giving shots and praying that these ones live.

I stop to get milk, same as every day. Except this time there is a cut on my thumb. A touch to the stainless steel pipeline and the stainless steel bucket and I feel an electric jolt to the tips of my toes.

Years ago we had trouble with stray voltage but we thought it was fixed. Cattle are extremely sensitive to electricity so stray currents will kill calves and cause the cows to give less milk.

One cut, the protective skin torn away– and it became glaringly evident that it was all a mirage.  It wasn’t a mineral deficiency. It was the same old invisible problem. One that was costing us on every front. And a wound healed our blindness.

Yet, do you know my first thought?

“That cut hurts! I wish I didn’t have it.”

Yes, the sliced thumb caused pain but the greatest pain had been there for years. I just hadn’t realized it. And I do the same thing in life.

Something appears that cuts away my protection, pain curls my toes and I stare at the blood and curse the wound. But sometimes, most times, the greatest issue lies deeper. So much deeper.

All of life changes when I stop thinking that my wound is the source of my pain.

I can’t have babies.

And that wound causes me to shiver in pain.  I’ve struggled with it, blamed it, cursed it, hated it but God has been tearing off my blinders. Forcing me to dig deeper.

I’m good at lulling myself into believing mirages. Really good at it. And infertility stole that ability from me.

If I hadn’t faced this trial there would be a far deeper cause of pain that reigned free in my soul. So, I’m learning to whisper thanks. Thanks for the use of physical-wounds to open my eyes to the soul-wounds that bring death.

My soul-wound? (tread carefully, friends, it’s still raw)

I don’t believe that God will truly take care of me.

My infertility hurts because I can’t have children but the deepest hurt is that it feels like proof that God won’t take care of my needs.  I need a baby and God says, “No.”

But what happens when I stop looking at the physical-wound and start looking for the soul-wound?

I see deep into a sinful-bleeding heart. One so thirsty for power that I dismiss my God as ruler of my life. I want to dictate my needs and they are wrapped pretty tightly with my wants. 

And God says, “I AM” and I’m laid low. I have to trust Him. I have no other choice. He is.

I don’t know about my future. But today {in this moment}, God wants to heal my soul-wound. He wants the mirage to be gone, the infected thinking torn out, and trust to spill through me.

And I’m learning to thank Him. To taste His redemption. Because if a little blood on the outside opens my eyes to the gushing wound inside—my heart says, “It’s worth it.”

It’s worth it to know Him more. It’s worth it to have my eyes opened to that which is bringing death. It’s worth it because I am desperate for life and life is only found in Him.