baby bandaidIf your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away! It is better to lose one of your members than to have your whole body go into hell. (Matthew 5:30)

I forced the blade of a utility knife through a plastic bucket, slipped, and stabbed my own leg. A friend used duct-tape to wrap the wound until we could finish the project.

Later, a nurse prepped for stitches but she left me to remove the tape from my hairy leg. After twenty minutes, she found me tugging in feeble increments. She grabbed the silver tape and ripped it free in one motion. Her method really didn’t hurt. I had prolonged the agony by my lack of resolve.

I’m a spiritual Band-Aid baby, too. I attempt to put my old nature to death slowly when Jesus wants to shorten the pain with a ripping campaign.

Sin cuts. It doesn't matter if I stab myself or if someone else injures me, either way, wrong choices cause wounds. The Spirit of Christ offers to enter the laceration for healing. But I clutch over my hurt and apply Band-Aids—those easy fixes that never address root problems. 

Over time, my temporary bandages become a permanent part of my corrupt nature. I fear that if I remove them, I’ll lessen who I am. But I was never meant to assimilate crusty distractions to wholeness.

True healing can’t happen until I’m honest about the depth of my injury. Habits will smell and anger will fester until I force my hands down, expose my heart, and let Jesus in for surgery. He has to use the light of prayerful meditation to perform a miracle of reconstruction.

But first, my Band-Aids have to go. So grab hold of vague acknowledgements and rip.

Prayer: Go ahead, Savior, tear away excuses and heal me deeply.


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