Touching the Wounds
December 3, 2007
A silent reader shared this with me via email.
“When I was a child we had a Christmas tradition. We had a little plaster statue of the baby Jesus that we placed under our Christmas tree each year. We loved our little Jesus doll and took good care of him. He was an important part of our lives. Then one year, tragedy struck. Our dog, in a particularly aggressive mood, decided to play with Jesus and tore his little plaster leg from his body. The family was so upset. We did not know what to do with this broken, mangled Jesus. Should we throw him away? Should we try to repair him? In the end, we decided to leave him as he was, broken and wounded. Somehow he seemed to be Jesus even more that way.”
In the midst of my wounds, I now know what it means to be whole.
Thank you, Denis. 🙂