Home   Prayer Network   Daily Devotional   Employment   The Wesleyan Church
Department of Communications
Close

Close

Story Headline

Photo Caption

Story Body

Wesleyan Life

I Was Healed by His Wounds

By Wayne Smith

My mother's emotions were never predictable. The slightest spark, even innocent childhood mishaps, could ignite them. The outbursts often resulted in irrational forms of punishment. My scarred emotions became more and more apparent as I grew into my thirties. At 35, on the way to visit my ailing mother, I decided to question her about my painful childhood.

I wanted to ask her about the abuse my siblings and I had endured, but I also wanted to tell my mother that I forgave. I wanted to—but I couldn't. I sat at her bedside for ten days, a slave to my own damaged emotions; I could not verbally confront her. She died the following month.

Five years later the Christian school at which I was teaching held a Spiritual Emphasis Week. Throughout the week my memories and my hurts were doing battle in my mind. During the last service, the guest speaker placed a wooden cross on the floor in front of the sanctuary. As we entered we were handed a small piece of paper on which we were instructed to write anything we wished to surrender to the Lord.

As a teacher, I should have been alert to the needs of students around me; but I could only focus on my own. When the invitation was given I sank to my knees, and through tears I wrote my mother a letter on the slip of paper in my hand. I told her that she was forgiven. I told the Lord Jesus Christ that I believed Him for my healing, and finally, I told the devil that I would no longer be bound by something my Savior had died to release me from.

After my private Golgotha, I rose to my feet and walked the aisle toward the replica of the Cross that had tortured my Redeemer in my place. As I knelt beside it and drove the nail through my letter into the wood, I claimed Jesus' wounds for my healing.

Current Issue