The Incurable Wound

I read an article, this morning, about the "incurable wound," and went to research it.  I've been thinking so much, lately about wounds: wounds we have; wounds we cause; wounds that are caused by our refusing to let God touch those hidden, bleeding places.  What happens when someone with a genuine wound is discarded and thrown away because they are seen as "weak" or "damaged"?  And on the opposite scale, what happens when someone refuses to let that wound be healed, and it begins to ooze, and fester, and "damage" those around them (anger; pride; violence; coarse jesting; belittling; manipulating; hatred; sexual sin)?  Should those who love them stay and be destroyed, or call out to those wounded from a place where they can be made whole?  In a battle, we treat those who are wounded; we treat them with compassion and love; we do all we can to see them restored and "in the fight" again; we try to help them make it home.  We "leave no man behind."  And, in a battle, due to the critical nature of time and the needs of others awaiting care, if someone refuses treatment--is happy with the wound and pretends that nothing is wrong--we can't do anything else but hope they let us help them, and begin to treat the ones we can.
As I looked at "incurable wounds," I saw that in each instance, the Lord answered that sin had made the wound "incurable", but that, really, He was able (and longing) to heal.  In my mind, I found several unanswered questions before this information.  Does our own sin cause all our wounds?  What about Job and Jeremiah?  God gave them the same reply, and yet, Job was hailed as a "righteous" man, and Jeremiah was God's spokesperson to Israel.  How could sin have made their wounds incurable?  
James says that sin is knowing what is right to do, and not doing it; Micah 6:8 says, "He has told you, oh man, what is good: but to do justice; to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."  Is it possible that we can do everything "right", and fail in the face of others' sins and weakness towards us?  Is it possible that, just as Matthew 24 states, after brother betrays brother, "the love of many grows cold"?  Is it possible that, when Jeremiah cried out in Jeremiah 15, he had become disillusioned at speaking over and over, again, to the people of Israel only to see them throw his warnings back at him and turn his concerns into ridicule and persecution (even throwing Jeremiah in jail accusing him of treachery and betrayal)?  Could his heart have become discouraged and broken at feeling rejected daily, and seeing nothing change around him?  Could others' sins have made him hard? He cries out in Jeremiah 18, "Would that I had never been born!"  With Job, also, Job despairs of life, and cries out, "All that I feared has come upon me."
I think of those in persecution who pray for their captors: who sing with tears streaming down battered faces; who lift broken hands to bless and never despise, and how the same voices that cry out without shame against sin and injustice--never excusing the sin--pray for those who have fallen.  In our own trials and afflictions, we, rather, cry out like Job, "I KNEW it!  All I feared has come upon me; like Jeremiah, 'my wound is incurable.'"
Could it be that the sins of others can have an affect upon our hearts; rather than standing for truth, and righteousness, and freedom, we become involved in a "campaign"; someone must pay; someone must answer for the hurt I am walking through?  Or in fear of being judged, we refuse to speak out when others are belittled; we lay burdens on them ("YOU must be perfect; YOU must do more"), and refuse to listen when they point out genuine oppression. And in either extreme, in those moments, we, too, open doors, because our hearts move far away from kindness (hating the sin, and speaking against it, but never letting our voices rise in rage or violence; lovingly pointing out those obvious things that break God's heart even as we stoop to wash the feet of those who have walked in those paths of "filthiness"; knowing we all are capable of failure; seeing others through God's eyes of love while never compromising the truth).  If we allow ourselves to focus on all that is wrong, instead of continually turning our eyes back to Jesus--speaking only against what breaks His heart, but never trying to "break" others or "make them" listen to us, we will fall...every time.
Jeremiah cried out: "Why is my pain perpetual and my wound incurable, which refuses to be healed?  Will You surely be to me like an unreliable stream, as waters that fail?  (then, the Lord reassures Jeremiah) "If you return, then I will bring you back; you shall stand before Me, if you separate the precious from the vile, you shall be as My mouth.  Let them return to you, but you must not return to them.  And I will make you to this people a fortified bronze wall; and they will fight against you, but they will not prevail against you.  For I am with you to save and deliver you.  I WILL deliver you from the hand of the wicked, and I WILL redeem you from the grip of the terrible."  Jeremiah was not to seek others' approval, or even for them to listen to him; he was not to mix his personality and his opinions with God's, and not to refuse to call others' to repent for OBVIOUS sins over fear of what they might say or that he could seem "quarrelsome." This can get confusing, but we should keep clear in our hearts that Jesus didn't scold people for not praying or reading the Scriptures--He called everyone to walk with Him; to know Him; to receive His love and put His opinions first; He never quarreled or broke those who were already broken, but He called them to lay aside those things that were bringing death to them and separating them from God.  We must--by our lives--show others' God's love; refuse to compromise in the face of sin and say, "oh, it's okay, don't worry about it," but at the same time, not make our focus OTHER'S walk with God, but be willing, when we're in a position to speak, and see sin played out before us, to call those individuals to lay those sins aside and let God bring new life.  We must make worship of God our goal, and out of that place, walk in kindness, speaking up for what is "just" and "noble" and "honorable" and "right." Not seeking to control others, but to bless them and bring them freedom at every turn (which means, at times, not allowing ourselves to be abused or drawn into hiding sin, so that we can still stand for freedom). And, God will be with us.
In Isaiah, God says, "Even in your old age, I will be the same, and even in your graying years, I will yet carry you!  I have done it, and I shall carry you, and I will sustain you; I shall deliver you" (Isaiah 46:4).

I think about these things, and I think about our own lives.  It is noble to stand against unrighteousness; it is honorable to stand against the "vile", and stand for purity, honesty, truth, freedom, love, closeness with God.  But when others' opinions (that they MUST hear me; that they MUST pay for my loneliness, or hurt, or fear, or betrayal); when my need to be heard creeps in and takes over, I lose sight of what is truly important: God cares for me.  If He has called me to speak, His love will be enough; there will be no "desperation"; no violence; no hatred; no vengeance; no control; no drowning out or suffocating others' rights to speak in my speaking.  There will only be love, and tears, and compassion over obvious wounds in the Body of Christ--obvious sins that are festering coming from lies individuals have believed, and compromise that has been allowed to separate those individuals from God.  But we will stoop, not stomp--we will gently wash with the water of the Word--seeking healing and deliverance and restoration for those individuals: not "skipping steps" or "glossing over" the damage that has been done, but speaking with compassion, as if we were the ones who fell; standing with them as they choose to let God heal them, but calling them to be made whole.  There are those painful times, as with Jeremiah and Isaiah, where we realize that others will not be made whole; then we must love them, and pray for them, but walk away and refuse to be drawn in to those same sins; we must not become bitter, or hardened, or judgmental, or feel betrayed, but say like David, "How the mighty have fallen in Israel"; we do not stand still and let their spears go in (not hiding truth or refusing to speak it), but we weep with compassion and pain at wounds that will not be made whole.
Let us separate the precious from the vile.  Let us not call darkness light; let us not say that speaking out against sin is "gossip" or needing root issues to be addressed is being "cruel".  Let us not say that our haughty, judging, "I know better" attitudes is calling others to righteousness in gray areas where they MUST know freedom to make their own decisions; let us not say that gently speaking against injustice and blatant sin (immorality; theft; control, etc.) is refusing to love.  Let us not manipulate others to see as WE see, lest our own wounds become incurable and our fears become multiplied, but let us be ever ready to speak out against injustice and compromise knowing that, if everyone else fails us, God will love us and heal our broken hearts.  Let us keep our eyes on Jesus; let us love as He loved; let us see as He sees; let us not make our opinions the goal, but, rather, seek daily to walk as He walked--willing to lay our lives down for others and longing to see their wounds cured.  May we let our hearts break before we would reach out and wound others; let us know that wounding, at times, is in refusal to speak up at what is right before us; at what God wants to remove so that others can know Him (again, obvious sins, not our own perceptions). "Good things as well as bad, you know, are caught by a kind of infection. If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them. They are not a sort of prize which God could, if He chose, just hand out to anyone. They are a great fountain of energy and beauty spurting up at the very centre of reality. If you are close to it, the spray will wet you: if you are not, you will remain dry. Once a man is united to God, how could he not live forever?" --C.S. Lewis