Years ago when we lived in Forestburg, we were given a small antique china cabinet. Other than needing some new fabric on the shelves, it was a perfect looking piece. I helped my friend who gave it to us recover it, and Stewart and I immediately put in our dining room to display some of our nicer items. When we moved to Pineville, it became the home of my mother’s teacup collection after she passed away. It also housed some of our crystal pieces, a jade teapot that had belonged to my uncle, and a vase that my grandfather brought back from Germany after World War II.
Needless to say, some of my greatest worldly treasures were in that cabinet. I had used the teacups for several tea parties, and every visitor to our home was shown it. It was a showpiece to me. I loved it, and I thought I would be passing it down to my grandchildren some day. It seemed to be strong, well-built, ready to withstand years of use and love. Boy, was I wrong!
Last week as Zach was vacuuming, I heard the worst sound I’ve ever heard. Crash. Glass shattering. A scream. First, I was worried about my child, but as I started to look around my dining room, I realized that this prized possession of mine had just betrayed me. We think that Zach bumped the cabinet with the vacuum, and one of the legs broke off. It had fallen over onto our bigger china cabinet, and delicate teacups were barely being held inside by the thin glass. A mercury glass candle holder that had been on top shattered everywhere. It was a catastrophe and a tragedy all rolled into one. I lost several teacups and saucers. As luck would have it, none of them matched each other, so now I have teacups without saucers and saucers without teacups. The jade teapot and the German vase were both okay, thank goodness, as were some other things that were precious to me.
As you can imagine, I was so angry and hurt, but ultimately, I knew it wasn’t Zach’s fault. Stewart further confirmed that as he inspected the leg that had broken. It was obvious that it had been glued back on the cabinet multiple times. There were layers and layers of glue. We had no idea about this flaw, and we’ve had this piece probably 15 years or so. If we had known, we would have never put such priceless (to us) things inside it or let it carry so much weight. Stewart assured me it could probably be fixed for the new house, but I told him, “No, don’t even worry about it. I would never trust it again. The next time could be worse!”
What’s the lesson here? You can look perfect and beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, you could be nursing a wound that could cause you to fall and cause a mess on all those around you. We’ve got to deal with our wounds or they will eventually deal with us. I have seen far too many people hold on to a wound that could have been dealt with years ago. It’s not worth it. I have seen bitterness literally kill someone I loved. Why live with the wound when you could take it to the Great Physician?
Isaiah 53:5 says, “But he was pierced because of our rebellion, crushed because of our iniquities; punishment for our peace was on him, and we are healed by his wounds.” Jesus was wounded so He could take on your wounds. The Bible also says in Psalm 147:3 that “He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.” Isn’t that something? Jesus has taken on your wounds, but He is also the one who does the bandaging. What other doctor would do that?
There is no use hiding your hurts. No use holding on to them either. Some day, the weight will get too heavy, and you will break. Don’t let that day come. Go to Jesus now. Let Him do the repairs. It’s a long process, but it is worth the work. Let Jesus help you deal with your wounds before your wounds deal with you.
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