Help for the Hurts of Life

In my childhood it was a thing of beauty. Burnt orange metal flake paint, high rise handle bars, caliper brakes, long banana seat and sissy bar combined to create a machine of superlative coolness.

Mine had five speeds. Or was it three? I’m not sure now.

What I do remember is that the horizons of my world expanded the day Mom and Dad brought it home. The confines of our small Saint Augustine lawn no longer held me captive. A bike provides a measure of independence for a boy. Blissful hours were spent in two-wheeled adventures with minimal supervision.

We rode shirtless up and down summer sun scorched streets. Tree shaded dirt trails in a patch of woods provided a place where we raced to see who could complete the loop the quickest. We built progressively larger ramps of packed earth and executed Evel Knievel style jumps to see who could remain airborne the longest.

Were he still alive, Knievel would testify that when you go big, sometimes you come down hard. Fortunately, none of us shattered any bones or suffered serious injury as a result of our escapades.

We did return home on a regular basis with a variety of hurts, mostly skinned elbows and knees. Mom cleaned our wounds gently and methodically, removing any adhering dirt and gravel.

I dreaded the initial stinging of her loving ministrations. The antiseptic wiping and application of ointment created an agony difficult to stifle. Receiving help meant enduring further discomfort. Still, that momentary hurt promoted permanent healing.

We encounter our share of bumps and scrapes while making our way through this life. Some of those wounds are external. Others are internal. The latter are always more difficult to heal.

Some hurts are self-inflicted as a result of choosing our own way rather than following our Creator’s purpose. Others are the result of bad choices others make. Hurt people often hurt people. Either way, the injuries we suffer are real.

The One who made us tells us to cast all our care on him because he cares for us. In our hearts we know his healing help is needed. Even so, we are reluctant to let him do that cleansing work within.

Henri Nouwen said it this way: "Praying is no easy matter. It demands a relationship in which you allow someone other than yourself to enter into the very center of your person, to see there what you would rather leave in darkness, and to touch there what you would rather leave untouched."

King David found the courage to seek God’s help. His prayer in Psalm 139:23-24 is one of the great statements of surrender to be found in all of scripture.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

So perhaps the woundedness incurred through daily living should be committed to the One who gives us life. Granting him full access ensures that the remedy for what ails us will be applied. The cleansing work he performs is anything but comfortable. Once the initial pain is past, the desired healing will follow.

A loving Father offers help for the hurts of life. Time with him brings wholeness to our fractured lives.

I need that help on a regular basis.