My cell phone died. I sat on my sofa in disbelief while I took the battery out and put it back in. Not once, not twice, but several times. The display flashed on and off. Some of the buttons worked; some didn’t. I tapped the display, as if that were magically going to resuscitate my favorite toy. I exhaled. It’s dead. It’s really dead.
Although I immediately ordered a replacement, that night I kept my phone by my bed. The next morning, I took it to work. I carried it around with me everywhere I went—meeting to meeting, on my walking breaks, even to the bathroom. I felt naked without its familiar shape in my hand. Even as I sat working at my desk, I checked it throughout the day, hoping a text message would somehow sneak its way through its flat-lined circuitry, it would be revived, and we could go back to the way things were.
For two days straight, the useless phone took up precious real estate in my purse. Just dead weight.
This is exactly what we do with our hurts. We carry them with us way past their expiration dates, letting them take up precious space in our hearts. They do nothing for us except weigh us down. Many times, the longer we hold on to them, the more familiar they become, and the more we resist letting them go.
Our Heavenly Father wants to take away our hurts. He wants to daily bear our burdens (Psalm 68:19). Yes, it’s scary, but He will take care of us. When our hearts are broken, He’s right there beside us (Psalm 34:18). He will heal our broken hearts, and He will bind up our wounds (Psalm 147:3). He alone can restore our souls (Psalm 23:3).
Several days later, I finally realized my phone had already seen its last day, so I left it home.
My phone couldn’t be fixed, but I can be healed and restored.
Prayer: God, help me to give you my hurts on the first day. Help me not to hang onto them but to hand them over to You—my healer, my Lord. Amen.
Reflect: Are you still holding on to a hurt that has now become familiar to you? What is keeping you from giving it over to God?