All They Crave to Let Go

I’ve gotten to the point in life where I realize a lot of what I see in the world is a trauma response.

I’m not using that word lightly. I know “trauma” is all the rage right now.

But there are deep wounds cultivated from the beginning of time here on earth that surpass one generation and lead to the next.

And the way we wear those wounds is often quite revealing.

Sometimes this goes one of two ways:

1. The person engages and connects with a world that claims there is no sin, merely identity, and they wear their wounds as a point of pride.
2. Or the person can’t stop knowing, feeling the truth no matter how hard they try to “fit in” and accept their wounds as who they are.

I often see God speaking to the second type of person because there’s room to roam there. They’ve left the door to their heart ajar.

Yesterday, in our Bible study group, we were talking about the folly of protesting outside an abortion clinic.

Lives aren’t saved when people are yelling.

But lives are saved when we sit with the walking wounded and say, “me too,” walking through their doors and listening to the slow beat of all of they’ve endured, all they crave to let go.