Wounds and Scrapes (Gizem)

I once had a guy friend become playfully indignant when I referred to a cut on his leg as a scrape. He told me in a very manly voice that it was a “wound.” Well whatever you call them, cuts, scrapes, bruises or wounds; they hurt like a mother.....!!!

This past weekend I decided to do something crazy……. REALLY CRAZY. I won’t go into the details of that activity (that’s for another blog J) but I will say it left me pretty beat up physically…..cuts, bruises, and a 6 inch “wound”. I think the last major injury I had was when I fell off my bike and scraped my knee way back in elementary school.

While grateful for my life (yeah, it was that bad), I’m still shocked that I actually hurt myself; I never get hurt like this. And I know that compared to nearly dying, bruises and cuts are nothing…but like I said I’m still in shock. Well, shock or no shock, I had to start taking care of myself. As usual I assumed I could do it, just hand over a bit of gauze and tape and I’ll be as good as new. Besides, it was kind of in an awkward location J Arzu helped me do it the first time, and I was grateful for help; truly I was, but I didn’t think I needed it, and truth be told, I thought I could do it better myself. But I let her work. You know just for her sake. I understand the need to be needed, so I didn’t want to be rude or mean by telling her I could take care of the bandaging myself.

Ha. HA HA.

This morning I sat on my bed and laughed at myself trying to unroll gauze, cut the right amount of tape, all without hurting myself more and having everything stay in place.

And I thought I could do this myself.

Yet another lesson in Humility 101; actually I’ve been taking that class for quite a while now ……..

Watching Arzu bandage my wound really made me stop and think.

I wasn’t just grateful to have her help;
I needed her.
I don’t like having to need people.
I want to do things on my own.
I’m happy for you to be with me on the journey, but I can do it alone.
I don’t want to need you.
But I do.
And that scares me.
I don’t want to depend on you, count on you, look forward to your help, have you as a part of my life, and then someday have to say goodbye to you; with snot and tears flowing down wondering if I’d be hurting this bad had I not allowed you in so close.

Oh wait, I thought we were talking about cuts, bruises, scrapes, and wounds? Hmm, wounds eh? Guess God’s having me learn yet again about wounds that I have that need to be healed. Places that need to be bandaged. Places I can’t reach myself. Spots that are embarrassing to expose, yet without the help of another will become infected, dangerous, and poisonous to the entire body.