No Wound to Big

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5 NIV

When have you been wounded?

What happened to crush you?

This past week I was asked to look back on my story. A story that has led me to Christ.

Looking back I remember a fond childhood. One of my earliest memories is running with chickens and dogs. We lived in a mobile home behind a special lady. There was lots of space to wonder and play outside. There was a tree with dangling branches where I like to set up house.

I enjoyed attending church. The congregation was small and loving. Every Sunday I would hug everybody at greeting time. One of my Sunday school teachers was a real inspiration to me. She was young and loved the Lord and teaching us. She taught me how to sign "Jesus Loves Me". It was in this small church where I accepted the Lord.

Eventually we moved to a house, we even had the fun of watching it being built. Move in day turned out to be my ninth birthday.

My teen years brought about the normal ups and downs. I really enjoyed when my aunt would come spend a week with me. She was a real inspiration. A new church brought more teachers or pastors who loved the Lord.

Soon I was all grown up, sure I have made mistakes. But I think having Jesus as my Savior kept me from making some big ones. Even if I did I know God loves me and would forgive me.

Any wounds I have incurred I most likely inflicted myself with decisions I made. Some of them I don't really want to remember, but I know those injuries have made me who I am today.

Everyone of us has some kind of wound that needs healed. The good news is Jesus has already been pierced, crushed and suffered punishment for any and all wounds. Because it is by His wounds we can be Healed!

Praising in a Different Way

I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer, without anger or disputing. 1 Timothy 2:8 NIV

The weekend was approaching, one I was looking forward to. Mainly because during the weekend I would have a chance to sing praise songs with teens. There is something special about being in the chapel singing worship songs to the Lord. Especially being in a chapel full of teens who love the Lord.

The day before though, illness struck. The aches, the sore throat, the coughing, and laryngitis. I thought about not even attending the weekend, I figured they could manage without me. But my daughter was also going to be there and I really wanted to be able to serve with her. So I doctored myself up, and decided to go.

I managed to communicate slowly and quietly. Time came though to sing, there was no way I could do that. I wanted to praise God, and singing in my head just didn't have the same meaning for me. This was a time when I was grateful for sign language.

I use the signs I can remember when I sing. Even though my memory isn't the greatest at remembering the different signs. Still I try.

Singing with my hands when I didn't have a voice, still made the singing meaningful. I was still able to praise the Lord even though my voice didn't cooperate. The time was meaningful and filling, just as much as I hoped it'd be.