Tuesday, October 5, 2010

By His Wounds, by Heidi Avery

I have a deadly disease. It consumes my body. Every single pump of my heart ushers contaminated, toxic blood through my veins infecting everything within its reach. It disturbs my brain; the way I perceive things and sometimes controls the way I respond to them. It sets my emotions off like wildfire, rapidly spreading from one thought to another and from one fear to another. They bombard me. This cancer seeps into every ounce of my flesh stealing my ability to focus on anything but myself.

I was born with this sickness. It’s genetic actually. My parents have it; their parents have it and all the way down the line. In fact, I notice that many are suffering just like me with this grim condition. You’ll find no mention of this illness in any medical books. Doctors cannot diagnose it and therefore can not offer me a cure. I live with it for years without knowing what is wrong with me. I try to convince myself that I am really okay. But, I’m not. I am dying. Rotting away from the inside.

This misery has cost me dearly. Relationships destroyed. Love sacrificed. Time wasted. I have a long list of mistakes and regrets that are a result of this poison that eats away at me. Countless, feeble attempts to restore myself have only led to temporary, fleeting relief. I count my failures and they define me.

I confess, it beats me up. I accept that this is who I am. Depraved. Helpless. Lost. It certainly seems hopeless for me. But, then I met Him… a physician, one never seen and never heard before. He sought me out and found me in the darkness. He claimed to know me and somehow I believed Him. He took one look at me and gave my disease a name…


He offered an antidote; a supernatural remedy for my symptoms with an eventual heavenly cure. The impossible. He requested all of my deepest sorrow and all of my internal pain. I did not hesitate to give it and in that moment I forgot about me. He became my center and I entered into the sweetness of His peace.

Who is this healer of my fatal misfortune?

Jesus. The Savior of my soul.

He chose me. A nobody. He pursued me. A lost cause. He lifted me from the miry pit and covered me with grace. He forgave me. He comforted me and purified my heart. He fed me with His Holy word. He transformed me. He gave me His Spirit; it guides me. He covers my weakness. He makes me strong. He inspires me to fight and gives me a divine purpose. He shed His blood. He died for me. Because He loves me. He saved me. And, despite this deadly disease that even today courses unrelenting through my blood; I experience healing.

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

This post was written in response to Bridget Chumbley's One Word at a Time Blog Carnival. This weeks topic is healing... check it out!


  1. He is so faithful ... so much here to ponder.

  2. Amen! God's grace covers sin... and I am so thankful.

  3. We are so blessed with a Father, and our dear Savior, who never gives up on us and seeks us over and over, and draws us to Him. [In my case, He always got to me through sneaking in from the left side, b/c my defensiveness wouldn't be able to get there before He did!! YEA!!]