little hands

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. We'd just left church and were headed to my grandmother's house to eat lunch. Seester came out of the house to meet us as I unloaded kiddos. MM was wearing a new pair of shoes, and as any girly-girl would be, she was proud and excited to show them off.  As I put her down in front of me, she went to point her toe. To keep her balance, she reached over and put her hand on the van just as the automatic "magic door" closed and latched. On her little hand and fingers. Standing right behind her, I saw it all happen in slow motion and couldn't seem to get the door open fast enough. When the door opened, I held a sweet little hand that was mangled and black with grease. Some of the skin had been pinched and was pulling off. She cried. I cried. My first thought was that surely something had been broken. I immediately picked her up and put her right back into her carseat so I could zoom to an emergi-care, but when I did so, I started pleading with her to wiggle her fingers. Please Mary Martin, please wiggle your fingers. I know it hurts, but please try. Show Mommy that you can do it. Any of them. Just wiggle. Please, baby. Of course, the whole time I was pleading with her, I was also pleading with God that she could move them. Please let nothing be broken.

It seemed to take forever, but after what was probably only 2-3 minutes, she began to move her hand. And wiggle a finger. And then another.

I took her inside where seester had made an icepack and held it on her hand until she calmed down. What had seemed so grim only moments before was now clearly not so bad.

Fast-forward to last night.

We were eating dinner with my in-laws, and I recounted the story of the smooshed hand and fingers and we looked at sweet little MM's hand, and ya know what? We couldn't find a trace of 'hurt'. Not a bit. I couldn't even see the spots where the skin had been pulled off just two days earlier. Nothing. Only a little toddler who was wondering why I was holding her hand and keeping her from eating.

And then it hit me.

God removes our scars. Just like that. If we ask him to heal a hurt, emotionally, He can do it. In fact, He's all about the business of healing hurts.

Did you know that?

He's totally laid it on my heart today to share this with you, and he used my baby girl's hands to make it clear to me. He can heal your hurt. He can remove your scars. Whatever may have happened in the past, however awful it may have been, He'll hold your hand and get you through it. He's waiting for you to reach out and call on Him. He wants to help. He's there.

He's always there.

He can wipe away tears. He can dissolve scars. He can remove hurt.

He can.

And He will.

He can even get you to a place in your life where you won't be able to remember the awfulness. The memories may still be there, but God brings peace so full and abundant that it covers hurt.

Maybe some of you are hurting. Maybe you have scars. Maybe God is leading me to type this just for you.

Do you know Him?

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever." Rev 21:4