Fresh from the war that left him maimed for life, Samuel stood before a small group of men to tell his story. His disfigured face told of flames that flashed from the explosion beneath the vehicle that carried him. Little remained of his ears, and scars stretched tightly across his face blocked any semblance of a smile. He even had to speak through clinched teeth. But there he stood bearing it all to the group of men sitting before him. They had wounds too, but none had courage to share them.
Life inflicts wounds on all of us. No one is immune. Some wounds are but soft blemishes to vanity. Others, more severe, inflicted by loss of loved ones, relationships broken, approvals never granted, trusts violated, failures undiscovered, forgiveness not received. Those pains don’t easily pass. So we hide them, or try to.
Some veiled wounds conceal shame. Some concealed to protect cherished relationships. Some are scars from wars fought that rekindle pain at the sight of them. Even from ourselves we hide some wounds to avoid reliving the sting that placed them there.
Hidden wounds are among the burdens we carry through our lives. They sometimes change who we are or become barriers to who we hope to be. They reshape the way we live our lives. I wonder if hidden wounds caused my uncle to live as more than he could be. I wonder if scars unhealed contributed to the estrangement of my aunt from her only child. And I wonder what life would be like if I could bring myself to expose wounds I harbor deep in my soul—the ones I don’t reveal even to myself.
Samuel doesn’t have a choice. Yet he wouldn’t change a thing. Given a second chance he says he would remove none of them. Samuel’s unhidden wounds reveal the truth of who he has become.
And he is free.
You are the light of the world,
Richard +