I took my assigned seat in 11th grade English. My favorite teacher, Mr. Perrault, sat silently at his desk. Today marked his first day back since the tragic fire. Amazingly, the room of 17-year-olds sat quietly waiting for him to begin the discussion on The Great Gatsby.
Instead, he began to cry. He told the story of the deadly fire that took the life of his brother and three nephews. He finished the heart-wrenching tale and erupted into uncontrollable sobs and buried his face in his hands. The class sat motionless, as if frozen in time. Everything within me wanted to walk to his desk and put my arms around him. I wanted to comfort him.
Something within whispered, “I have created you to heal the brokenhearted.”
I dismissed the voice and shrank back in my chair. I pushed down the words of comfort that stirred in the deep places of my heart. Nothing I offered him, I thought, would bring peace in the midst of his pain.
He asked why God allowed horrible things to happen to good people. The room was quiet. There was no answer. Memories of the past were triggered in my mind. I too, began to question the goodness of God. Lost in my own anguish, I sat silently as he suffered. I did nothing. The bell rang, class ended, and I headed to my locker feeling like a complete failure.
I never forgot Mr. Perrault’s tragedy or the feelings it stirred in me.
At the age of 30, I began to deal with the painful events in my own past. A few years into my journey to wholeness, a friend introduced me to Foundations of Freedom, taught by Bob Hamp. He opened his lesson with The Parable of the Acrobat. The story recounts the life of an acrobat and the road he travels to discover his true identity and destiny. As I listened to the intriguing tale, I recognized how the painful events from my past robbed me of the life God designed me to live.
Confronted with the truth, I had a choice: continue my version of life, or live the life God created for me. One path led to continued bondage to the past, and the other brought freedom from it. To recapture the life God designed for me, I would have to examine the painful events in my life and confront the wounds left in their wake.
For years, shame, guilt, confusion and fear defined me. Wrongful thinking led me to believe God authored the abandonment and abuses I suffered as a child. Even as a believer, I avoided intimacy with God because of the underlying resentment, anger, and bitterness. Deep within, however, I knew God created me for more. These dreams in my heart awakened the first time I heard the acrobat’s story. God invited me to the path of completeness in Christ. He spoke tender words like, “You are my daughter and I love you.” He assured me, “I will never leave or forsake you.” Over time, I began to view myself the way He sees me. My thoughts became different towards Him and His work in my life. He taught me how to walk in my identity and destiny.
The healing of childhood wounds requires a daily dependence with the Father. Only He can release the healing where it is most needed in the wounded soul. It is a lifelong journey of healing and restoration.
The affirmation I needed came through increased dialogue with my Father. His healing presence in and around me brought rest to my soul as I began to believe I was His precious daughter. He reminded me, “I have created you to heal the brokenhearted.”
The voice was familiar. This time I didn’t dismiss it or shrink back from it. I knew the Father led me down the path of healing in order to show others how they, too, may be set free and healed. The dream He placed within me was to proclaim Isaiah 61:1-4:
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations.
Like many before me, Jesus fulfilled these verses in my life and then invited me to lead others to the sacred path of healing and wholeness.
As a teenager, Mr. Perrault’s agony stirred up a longing in me to become the person God created me to be. In my brokenness, I could not understand how God wanted to use the events in my teacher’s life to call me into my identity and destiny. However, because He is the Tireless Pursuer He never gives up on me and continues to seek me until I hear His voice.
