Skinned Knees

(c) 2013 C. B. Park, all rights reserved

Skinned knees: One of those childhood experiences.  We’re running away from someone in a game of Hide and Seek or we think we’ve gotten the hang of those roller skates.  Then WHAM! we’re flat out on the ground and it’s no fun anymore.  If we’re lucky, the weather’s a little cool and we have a layer of denim between us and the pavement.  It may not save us from the injury completely, but at least one layer of skin may escape.  Then again, a completely skinned knee might be the better option from picking blue thread out of your tender epidermis.

Skinned knees are probably our first experience of healing.  They’re different from a cold or the flu.  You can actually watch the healing process work.  Right after you fall, the body reacts by inflaming the wound.  Blood vessels contract to stop the bleeding and then they expand so that antibodies, white blood cells, enzymes and nutrients can get to the wound.  While you are screaming “mommy” and running for the house, neutrophils and macrophages are mounting an attack on any bacteria hovering around.

After this initial reaction, the body settles into the rebuilding stage.  Collagen-rich tissue and new blood vessels form a granulation layer over the wound.  Eventually this closes the wound, the epithelial cells resurface the area with skin, and all manner of swelling and tenderness subsides.  Of course, the amount of time this takes depends a great deal on how much you pick at it.  Scabs are such interesting science experiments.

So, as I reminisced upon the many and various skinned knees suffered in my childhood (and beyond), I realized that this universal experience is a great metaphor for what healing can be for us.

Our woundedness comes from many sources.  Injuries of the flesh are only one type of hurt we suffer in our lifetimes.  Mental or spiritual pain is as real as physical.  These injuries can be self-inflicted and self-aggravated.  They can be inflicted by others intentionally or unintentionally. But, all of this is secondary to the fact that we just hurt.

Our wounds may be inflamed by others good intentions, attempts at comfort that may staunch the bleeding but do nothing to ease the immediate pain.  Inflammation comes quickly when the injury is completely unexpected and our emotions rise to counterattack.  We believers run to our Beloved Parent for solace and for healing.  Healing is always there with God.  And, thanks to God’s gift of calling women and men to healing professions, the easing of pain is possible as well.

As time passes, we begin the rebuilding stage.  Healing is a process.  It is ongoing.  The initial pain subsides, we experience relief from the inflammation, and we begin to feel like everything’s going to be okay.  But, deep down, we are still tender.  It doesn’t take much to re-injure ourselves; our newly formed skin is so susceptible to being torn anew.  This tenderness may take a lifetime to heal.  Anniversaries, vivid memories, or just the wrong thing said at the wrong time, often put us back in that cycle of pain that we thought we’d left behind. 
Of course, we may simply keep picking at that wound, keeping it open and vulnerable.

I believe that my ultimate healing will be when I am in God’s nearer presence.  But until that day comes, I know that God is with me in my hurting.  God hurts along side us God hurts with us.  The One who still bears the scars from wounds inflicted by the world’s hate is our companion in suffering. We can run to Jesus who will wrap his strong arms around us and hold us through the pain.

As my friend Julian of Norwich wrote:
In the time of our pain and our woe,
                (Christ) shows us the face of His Passion and of His cross,
                helping us to bear it by His own blessed strength.
…whether in falling or in rising
we are ever preciously protected in one love.

Whatever brings you here tonight…pain or injury…doubt…illness…fear…know that you can with confidence ask for God’s healing grace.  Let it begin with you tonight.  Let it continue with you tonight.

All shall be well.  All manner of things shall be well.
Amen.

(c) 2013 C. B. Park, all rights reserved