“When the imitation of Christ does not mean to live a life like Christ, but to live your life as authentically as Christ lived his, then there are many ways and forms in which a man can be a Christian. The minister is one who can make this search for authenticity possible, not by standing on the side as a neutral screen or an impartial observer, but as an articulate witness of Christ, who puts his own search at the disposal of others. This hospitality requires that the minister know where he stands, and whom he stands for, but it also requires that he allow others to enter his life, come close to him and ask him how their lives connect with his. Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer (p. 99-100)
I re-read a portion of this book as part of my Spiritual Reflection for CPE this week. The book came to mind after reading a post by Rachel about a blog commenter who nuked her. And how they developed an online friendship of sorts. I won’t tell her story. You’ll want to read it and ponder…
But whether it is blog posts and nasty comments, or life, it takes a lot of guts to write about who you are, what you believe, and where “the warts” happen to be showing on a particular day. Sometimes it’s even harder because you know that those “warts” rub other people the wrong way. My stuff is intertwined in others. I don’t want to let you in on all of the lovely and not-so-lovely family moments. (As they all breathe a sigh of relief…)
Sometimes you can’t really ‘tell it like it is’ because it isn’t your story to tell. (It’s why social media makes hospital administrators crazy. People blab other people’s stories. Or they divulge confidences.) But along the bumps in the road, there’s time for reflection and self-awareness… and a desire to grow and change.
When I saw the sun shining through the stained glass at the front of the church last weekend, I smiled. God works through brokenness as that light shines through the pieces of who I am and what I do. And the result, as it is refined and shaped the way I am meant to be, is beautiful. It is not one piece, but many that create the beauty. It is not just one conversation, but many, that bring out the best and refine the less-than-best in me. I am OK with being broken. I don’t need to be reglued or fixed. And yet I have a hard time being broken.
In my continued pursuit of living as a human BEING not a human DOING, I’m putting it out there again. I’m a wounded healer. Healed once for all time by THE Wounded Healer. It doesn’t matter how far off track I get. I know that God’s work in me will finish. It’s in God’s Hands.
How high, how wide
No matter where I am
Healing is in Your hands