In those seconds of my life, that seem to last forever, I forget that it’s over. I forget I have walked through the fire and now I am free.
My Healer God has healed me.
I forget that my Lord’s blood covered all the shame, the fear and the sin. All of it. Mine and theirs. His blood covers the sin of those that took what wasn't theirs to take.
For that second, those memories all comes back. Unwanted. Unsought. I don't go looking for them. They just come, unbidden.
Why am I not allowed to forget? Why do the memories force themselves upon me? They haunt me, and play with my mind. They whispers old lies. Old hurts. Shame.
I am only lost for a second. Then I remember. Well, He reminds me.
He reminds me of the cross. His cross. His shame. That was really my shame. It was my sin that nailed Him there. He reminds me it their sin against me that was also nailed there. He covered it all. He beat the enemy. He came to life. He conquerored death, sin and shame.
I am reminded of the power of the gospel. The power of Jesus living in me. I have the Spirit of God. I have His power that works in me.
I am reminded that I am free. I am beloved. His beloved. I am precious, redeemed and I am His. Forever. Nothing can take me from Him. Nothing and no one.
It only takes a second for truth to come flooding through my heart. My soul. My mind. A second for Him to speak truth, love and grace into my life. Again. As often as it takes. He never grows tired of reminding me of His love. His healing. He never grows tired of me.
Then, He reminds me there are others.
Ones without healing. Without truth. I know the darkness that lies untouched within them. I have felt it. I understand the hurt that has been left unattended, praying it will just heal on it’s own if ignored. But it will not be ignored. Instead it lies within waiting for the right moment and then the memories rise up from the depths of the darkness to hurt once more. Memories that bring deep hurt, and shame. The lies sting over and over. They don’t know truth. They haven’t been set free. They do not understand the gospel.
Who will tell them? Who will walk the journey with them as others have walked with me? Who will help walk them to freedom in Christ?
To be honest, in my humanness, I would prefer to forget. To not share my story. To leave it there dead on the pages of history. But I can not.
His Spirit rises up within me and urges me to go to them. Help them. Tell them they are not alone. Tell them that God is their Healer, their Redeemer.
Our stories of God's healing, of His power, His glory, His gospel message in our lives are meant to be told. They are meant to be shared so that others might walk the journey of healing.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.” 2 Cor 1:3-5