In order for the wounds to be healed they need to be open…they need to be hurting and burning. In this moment the Christ begins his process.
There is no healing without excruciating pain…in this moment I enter into the throne room of the healer…I begin a conversation with Him to protect me from perishing and drowning into this wound…He understand as He is the wound become whole…by His stripes, whipping and torture He has paid for my process of deliverance from these wounds.
I cry to him, like the little Isaac cried whilst lying on the altar of sacrifice….whilst Abraham cried whilst giving up his son to God…in an act of faith we are allowed to cry….we are allowed to beg the Lord to save us and to do His Will…His Will is prefect.
We become Abraham….bringing the sacrifice of a humble and contrite heart…a sacrifice of our suffering to Him, knowing that we cannot help ourselves at all.
Now I partner with a man without arms….to do a project…what were his wounds that were impossible to overcome. I can’t imagine.