The Wounded Healer

There are things about myself that cannot be fixed. Wounds made by God Himself, if you get right down to it. Introverted to the point of isolation, I turned to the spiritual path when my daughter was diagnosed with cancer at age seven. I already had agoraphobia, but that seemed unimportant in the bigger scheme of things. I had to play the game of life anyway. Being a perfectionist, I have always tried to do my best and it has never been good enough–for me anyway.

For many years I studied truth with great passion. That passion has never dimmed. I now understand better the concept of the wounded healer. I have had several dreams of being a shaman. Me, an introverted, panic-driven perfectionist who wears lipstick even when she is at home. Yes, me. Who else but me–someone who lives on the Great Edge of Enlightenment, fearing to take the final leap.

Buffy Ste. Marie sings in “Angel”

Come now and now my love,
And leave your dying desert to the rain.
Give up your treasured wounds
Let go the tempting memory of the pain.

Yes, I know. I should go ahead and do that. But now my dearly beloved husband is dying of cancer, slowly and courageously. I am being wounded by the shadow of his illness falling over my soul like a dark blanket. Me, a shaman. Who else but me? But who will I heal? Is there someone sitting in their inner darkness looking for some light. I can tell them that the darkness is where you come to God. That He will meet you there.

If I am on the edge of enlightenment, can I help you heal. No, but I can bear witness to the darkness. That is all I have to do. The light will do the rest. The wounded healer knows that grace is for the weary and the sick at heart. For them who need it most. My perfectionism would have me keep my mouth shut, but what does it know about grace. No, my flaws are what can heal me, once I let them flutter over me like birds in flight. They are wings that won’t let me go. Imagine that. Being borne aloft by sorrow. All I have to do is say the words, “I need to be set free.”

*Written and published on my old website.

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