Bandaid Days

Have you ever left a band-aid on for too long?  Maybe you meant to change it out before you went to sleep....or maybe you were on a trip where you couldn't take a shower for a few days and the fact that you had a nasty, infection-prone wound managed to escape the corners of your mind. Whatever your story (C'mon, we all know you've done it), I'm sure you remember the moment you finally mustered up enough guts to dislodge that glorious strip of plasticky fabric from your skin.  As if band-aids weren't difficult enough to remove already, you can be sure that the arduous adhesive with which your band-aid is fashioned will no doubt utilize its extended lifespan to grow nothing but stronger. 

No matter how bad the band-aid needs to come off...no matter how bad the wound needs to breathe in fresh air in order to heal...there is always a moment of extreme tension immediately before said 3-day-old band-aid is removed.  Why?  Because no matter how much we need to heal, we will always wince at the thought of the inevitable pain (however brief it may be) that is a necessary predecessor to healing. 

Today, I had a few long-standing band-aids ripped off.  There are corners of my heart that have been wounded for some time now.  And while I knew....I knew deep within me that the only way healing could begin would be to remove them...it has taken both a significant amount of time and the blessing of relational accountability to give me the guts to remove them.  Or, rather, to allow the Lord to remove them.  And while the pain of removal is no doubt substantial, I have rest in knowing that even my deepest wounds can now begin to breathe...can now begin to heal. 

I pray that if you are reading this with open wounds....with band-aids that need to be removed, that you will have the strength to rip them off. That you will be able to push back the momentary pain in order to experience the healing that can only come with openness and a little fresh air.