When I was young, my sister and I spent quite a lot of our summer breaks in our grandparents’ home. During one such vacation with them, and without our parents around, I was eager to learn to ride the bicycle. Moreover, I was determined to learn making U-turns without having to put my foot on the ground for support. Our grandparents’ home had adequate place for me to conquer my quest. One day when I was trying to perfect my turns, I lost my balance and scraped my right leg quite badly on a cement plant pot. The pot had torn through my skin and left me bleeding. I fell to the ground and cried in pain. I cried more so, because, I was too afraid to see how badly I was wounded, I feared getting yelled at for breaking a pot and not being careful and I was terrified of the thought of having to possibly go to a doctor. I spent too much energy in those initial moments after the fall worrying about so many other things and what others would say, rather than allowing myself to process that I had been hurt, or that I needed to tend to my wound.
When I was finally helped up by my playmates, though trembling still, I found enough courage to limp into the house and eventually showed my wound to my grandmother. She didn’t chide me nor did she fuss over me. It felt like she saw right through my varying degree of unnecessary fears and quietly tended to my wound. To my relief, she said we didn’t have to go the doctor and get a tetanus shot or sutured up. Instead, she said we’d give it a few days and monitor how I fared. I calmed down. From that day, till my wound turned to a scar, my grandmother lovingly cared for me and tended to my hurt. She watched out for me and helped me stay careful and avoid getting my wound infected.
Though this incident happened over 20 years ago, I remember it vividly! When I look back on such episodic memories from my life, I’ve come to realize that they always have a take away for me. This particular episode flashed across my mind in a rather timely manner and taught me a much-needed valuable lesson.
Have you ever had a list of people in your mind who you’ve tucked away so carefully or possible repressed because you don’t ever want to recall the pain they’ve caused you? If yes, you know like I do today that at the most remotest off-chance their name comes up or a whiff of their semblance comes to your mind, it triggers and consumes you with every form of negative emotion possible. In all honesty, I have struggled a lot with this – whether I love them and they caused me deep pain, or have simply been a source of trouble to me. If you’re wondering what this has to do with the incident I shared from my life; here goes.
What stands in the forefront of my vivid memory of that day is how I covered my wound and held it tight. I felt if I didn’t see it I didn’t have to deal with the fear it would stir within me. I also held on to it without letting my grandmother assess it at first. This stemmed from the fear that extreme measures would have to be taken to mend the wound. I felt I’d rather hold on to the pain I was feeling then, than allowing my pain to be exposed and having my brokenness fixed.
This reminded me of how I or as humans, at times, our tendency is to hold on to the hurt or pain others have caused us, in our lives. It reminded me that sometimes, I am like that little girl who’d rather hold on to the hurt than go through the process of healing. I have experienced fear so great, stir within me. And I’ve allowed fear to call the shots, and control my life.
As humans, we also learn from experience. And if we have been through brokenness, we do whatever we can in our capacity to not allow ourselves to go through such experiences again. We build high walls around us. And at times, we chain ourselves from experiencing life in freedom. We let our varying degrees of fear and negative emotions control us, even without our realization.
We are wired to protect ourselves. And sometimes this means, we cover up the pain and learn to live with it; rather than deal with it and be open to allowing someone to help us sort through the very thing that corrodes our life. And in holding on tight to our wounds, we keep ourselves from living. However, this incident has reminded me that we can protect ourselves by taking a step, in courage to face our pain.
I recollect from my memory, that letting go was the hardest part for me. But when I allowed my grandmother to take over, knowing I could trust her to do what’s right and best; I saw myself being healed. Before long, I was back to riding my bicycle. And this time, I learnt to be cautious.
I have learnt that it takes intentionality to take my pain to Jesus. Every time we get that whiff, and negative emotions are stirred, we can deliberately take our pain to Jesus. He alone can work with it. It is not going to go away overnight. However, like with my grandmother, Jesus lovingly cares for us and tends to our pain if we allow Him. He redeems our brokenness for His glory. He alone enables us to reconcile with our hurt, assuring us that we can be healed, freed and made whole once again to enjoy the ride.
There are no guarantees that we wouldn’t be knocked down again and get hurt. Yet, from experience, we can learn to be cautious. And we can be encouraged not to put our life on hold because of our pain.
More importantly, we can be assured that we have a God who lovingly cares for us through our pain. And He is not oblivious to our emotions. He holds us. He empathizes with us. And through our varying emotions, He gently works with us to make us whole.
Today as the world celebrates ‘Mental Health Day’, I want to challenge you to work on letting go of your pain. We may not realize at times the things we hold on to; whether it is unspent anger, bitterness, fear or mistrust. Take time for yourself today. Allow Christ to tend to you. He will relieve you of your pain, as you trust Him.
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Just reach out, and Jesus will reach in. He’ll take your broken heart, and make it whole again. It don’t matter who you are or where you’ve been. Just reach out, and He’ll reach in.
John Schlitt / Rich Gootee
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