The one who covers his transgressions will not prosper,
but whoever confesses them and forsakes them will find mercy. (Proverbs 28:13)
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’d prolonged the agony by my lack of resolve.
I’m a spiritual Band-Aid baby, too. I expose only tiny bits of my old nature to the light at a time. But Jesus wants to shorten the torment with a ripping campaign.
Sin cuts. It doesn't matter if I slice myself, or if someone else knifes me. Either way, wrong choices cause heart wounds. The Spirit of Christ offers healing, but I cover my pain with Band-Aids—those easy fixes that never address root problems—and I never want to take them off.
Over time, my temporary bandages become a permanent part of my corrupt nature. I fear that if I remove them I’ll lose the attention I receive over my boo-boos, and it will lessen who I am. But I was never meant to assimilate false cures into my character.
True healing can’t happen if I hide. Anger will fester, and habits will rot, until I let Jesus in for surgery. Through meditative prayer, I must allow his touch to reach the depths of my wound. And to do that, my vague acknowledgment Band-Aids have to be torn off.
Prayer: Go ahead, Great Physician, rip away excuses and heal me deeply.