Wounded

Inside the cover of a 1995 journal, I find these words: In case of evacuation. 

And underneath, a simple list. What I hoped to take. 

Bible. Journals. Baby books. Two baby quilts Mom embroidered. Photos. Recipe book.

Wounded by violence

Journal entries follow. Littered with the violence of the 1990s when a desert megacity was our home. Karachi.

People killed. Or severely wounded. Physically and otherwise.

Terror controlling daily schedules and activity. Fear in the air we breathed.

And the exodus of friends. Some not allowed by their companies to remain. Others forced out by viable threats.

The grief filters through these accounts.

The power of God

Then I turn a page. Read a memory penned in free verse form. And remember the other side of the story in those years. 

The power of God.   

As people wandered across our path. Finding our small gathering of believers.

Searching—but not really sure what they were looking for.  This hunger more pressing in the city situation.

And we witnessed transformation. The hungry filled. The wounded healed.

Wounded by betrayal

She was an expatriate. Department head at a university. Elegant. Sophisticated. Intelligent.

A woman of privilege desperate for something more. Wounded by betrayal and hurt. 

She would say, “I feel empty.” And confessed trying to dull the pain with alcohol.

Her questions multiplied in our visits. We talked about the gospel. And detailed God’s plan for salvation. 

Rescued

The phone rang one day. When I answered, she said, “It’s me. I feel strange saying this—but I want you to know I’ve been walking with Jesus for two days.” 

It was not an easy road for her. Ever. Her questions were honest. Hard.

But she described new found peace. And we saw it clearly on display in this dear sister.

Rescued by the Lover of her soul. Baptized in the waters of a friend’s pool.

Wounded bird

Before
the questions were
sharp-edged
defiant
wild in
the asking.
Wounded bird
wanting rescue
but
fiercely fighting
Your healing hand.
Now,
still questions.
And searching.
But 
softened
in Your loving embrace.
10 May 1995

 “For I am not ashamed of the gospel,
because it is the power of God for salvation
to everyone who believes….” 
Romans 1:16

What about you?

Have you seen the other side of the story? Have you experienced His hand at work in the wounded places?

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Skipping Truth – When I am afraid I will trust in You – Brokenness – Faithful witness – Healing hurts and counting stars – The international fellowship at Swiss Villa – Set free on the Sabbath –