Hiding Our Damage

 

As I walk the neighborhood this summer, it seems that everywhere I see damage to the streets. That is not unusual, streets are always needing repair due to age and traffic load. But this year it seems more widespread than in years past. I imagine the brutal freeze of this past February is responsible to some degree. These old streets had never seen anything like those temperatures over that long stretch of days and nights. I think I might be seeing the results.

This hole in the concrete seems to be the only one marked with colorful paint. I’m not sure what this indicates. Perhaps it is the worst of the lot. Or maybe it was the first damaged area marked in a now abandoned process of assessing damage. Whatever the case, it certainly catches the eye.

Some damage is easy to see, obvious to all. Some is hidden, doing its work for a long period of time, waiting to become visible to all who pass by. Or at least to those who will stop and notice.

We humans can be damaged as well. In fact, most of us are, to some degree and in one way or another. Some types of damage shows. Some types of damage do not. The Psalmist writes, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” I don’t know about you, but those words sound beautiful in my ears and in my heart.

Some damage is the result of the actions of others. Some, the results of our own choices. And some is the result of life and what it brings into our lives. Those closest to us may know the damage that shows. If they spend enough time with us, either in work or play, it is inevitable.

But we can hide our damaged places very well, even from those we hold most closely. We may fear that they will not love us if they knew all of our story. Or perhaps we fear that they will use our pain to hurt us all the more. Often, we are so ashamed that we can’t be fully truthful even with ourselves. That is the worst, for it keeps us from the very grace we seek. We continue to slowly crumble and deteriorate, when the needed healing is so very close.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted … and the crushed in Spirit.” God doesn’t even need the paint to find our need. But we need to risk ourselves to receive that for which we long. We can risk ourselves to God’s grace. We can risk ourselves with those whom God sends into our lives as a means of that grace. All we have to lose is the loneliness of our own damaged lives. Why not risk it?

Peace.