You must irrigate the wound.

You must irrigate the wound.

My maternal grandmother was a nurse by profession. Though I didn’t spend much time with her, her love for medicine and healing others passed down to me in a beautiful way. For many years, I desired healthcare with a passion, later realizing that I can “heal” in a different way.

Yet one thing about medicine stands out to me- before one can heal from physical harm, someone must irrigate the wound. This means that in order for healing to occur, some pain must be coupled with a deep clean in order for the germs and infection to be removed so that healthy healing may be found.

That’s what happened on Saturday night. My mom, my sister, my 16yr old niece, and I all got into a huge argument. The argument left my niece in tears, ready to explode. God had to tamper down my emotions and anger so that I could recognize the silent whisper of my niece as she cried out for help in her own way. As she screamed, I held her, comforting her and giving her room to be vulnerable.

Her infection was killing her.
This infection was killing us.
Irrigation was necessary.

Once the air cleared a bit, we all talked and reached a mild middle ground. My other niece was nearby so I offered to have ice cream with them both. While they washed their hair and got ready, I prayed for God’s grace and guidance as I prepared for my nieces.

Candle. Check.
Blank journals. Check.
Pens. Check.
Blankets. Check.
Instrumental music. Check.
My broken vessel cup. Check.
A brave space. Check.

Although it was late, we grabbed our ice cream and sat on the carpet with our blankets. The Christmas Cookie Candle was emitting a sweet, welcoming scent that helped to set the mood. I needed to create a space of love; we needed this healing session. God, please give me grace and the words to say.

We went deep.
After hearing that both my 16yr and 11yr old nieces had contemplated suicide in the past few months was a sign that they could handle the depth of my conversation. I told them everything… well, only everything about me. I did tell them that every woman in this family has been hurt by a man in the family, but it’s not my place to share the stories of others…

In order to irrigate the wounds of the heart, we had to go deep and remove all of the confusion and pain. Our conversation was so open, that it lasted well into Sunday morning. But it was necessary; we had to talk.

“I am alone.”
“I feel unseen.”

Those were the words that they shared. They shared their truths. Stories of familiarity, stories of rejection, stories of misunderstanding, stories of loneliness- my nieces poured their hearts out to each other and to me in a moment of desiring healing over hiding. Their young hearts were so broken and all that I could do was listen… until it was time to introduce the cup.

Back in 2017 I led a Bible study class based on one of my books. In the class, I brought in a coffee mug and said that the mug represented me. I placed the mug in a bag and took a hammer (representing life) to the mug. The mug broke in pieces- much like my life and heart- until the hot glue (representing Jesus) came to put me back together again. I told them that though the mug was no longer as it once was, it still had a divine purpose. Then, I wrote a note to myself and used the mug as storage for that note to future Michelle.

On Saturday night, I explained the mug to my nieces and read them the letter that I had written on October 17,2017. With their journals in hand, I tasked them with writing a letter to their future selves. Not gonna lie, I low-key thought that they would shrink from undertaking such an emotional task. But to my pleasant surprise, they wrote for about 20 mins. My eldest niece read her letter aloud, while the younger one kept writing.

Honesty moment: seeing my nieces sit on the floor- no device in sight – fully connected to the moment of candlelight journal writing made my heart leap for joy. I saw in that moment the truth- God was going to heal my family… and that healing had started right in that moment.

Saturday night was incredibly painful and emotionally straining, but I trust God and know that healing will come from it.

Just like the wounds that my grandmother used to clean, my family now knows that healing is possible but first, you must irrigate the wound.

Be blessed.

Beloved, God wants to break every chain and generational curse that envelops you. He is asking you today to surrender to Him and let Him begin that healing process in you. Understand, there will be pain, you will cry and want to quit, but He will be with you through it all. I love you so much, Sweet Friend; cheers to your continued healing ❤️

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