A Gift Unnoticed?

Blood poured from my head, down my face, and onto my white muddied shirt, as I stood dazed, in an open field, full of people, unnoticed.

I was at a kid’s camp and had joined a team of young teens who needed a little extra help in an obstacle course race. They were energetic but lacking in confidence. They were also a runner down. I wanted to see them experience victory. I believed in them. So, I joined them and encouraged where I could.

Each kid came dressed in a bright white t-shirt, in readiness for the colour run that would be held after the obstacle race.

With one obstacle left, and as the last runner, it was my turn to bring the team home. They were in a good position, and after being with them the previous two hours, I had come to deeply care for them. I wanted the best for them. Despite anticipating a battle that would include a run down a tunnel of darkness, through mud, I was willing and prepared to give it my all.

As I took off, I could smell the hessian that overlaid a series of wooden frames that created the tunnel and felt the sharp spray of water running down my back, coming from an above sprinkler system.

As the end of the tunnel drew near, I raised my head a little, to find myself immediately thrown backwards into a sea of dirt and cow manure. My head had been hit hard, as pain roared through my body. Instinctively I got straight back up, put my hand to my head and completed the run. “Finished” I yelled.

Nobody in our team noticed I was injured. They were blind to the wound on my head heavily bleeding because they were so thrilled that they had won the race. With joy, they headed to the colour run, ready to be covered by a rainbow of colours as a keepsake for the day.

I stood, in what felt like a very lonely and lost moment, bleeding. I then made my way through an open field of people, dazed, trying to find the First Aid tent. A golf buggy ambulance was called and then drove me to the entrance of the camp hospital.

On arrival at the hospital, I stood up from the buggy and suddenly felt terrible. A group of doctors and several nurses rushed around me, holding my body as I heard them say, “We’re losing her! We’re losing her!"

Their words along with the hot and cold sweats and pain, I believed I was in trouble.

I remember thinking about the inability to control whether I might live or die in my own strength. I talked to God about the most important matters and people in my life before everything turned black.

Fortunately, I’d only passed out. When I woke up, I had a patch of hair shaved off, my head stitched by a well-respected surgeon, and had been given a tetanus shot.

That wound changed everything about the way I experienced the rest of camp. The tunnel was also dismantled, so no one else would be wounded as I had been.

I never came across those teen kids during camp again. They didn’t see the sacrifice I’d made for their victory. It took more than a year to grow my hair back to a reasonable length, which at times felt embarrassing. Today, I am left with a scar, but I feel no regret.

Sometimes, in life, you might make plans that seem sensible and reasonable. Plans do change. You may feel like you have been hit in the head with a plank of wood, wounded and bleeding. The people around you might miss seeing your wound. You may think you won’t survive, but you will. The process of healing is painful, uncomfortable, lonely, and embarrassing, nevertheless, even with a scar, you can rest in the knowledge that victory has been won for you already!

God sees you and your wounds. He will help you and if you allow Him, Jesus will be the stitches that hold your wounds together. You will have a story to tell of Jesus' goodness and your experience may bring significant change for others.

Unfortunately, this world has many obstacles, and you will get muddy, dirty, and messy. You will get wounded from time to time. It's not the way it should be, but a plan has been formed for your salvation. You are covered with a colourful keepsake, that holds a promise that He is your God, and you are His.

Jesus was wounded and bled. That blood covers you, no matter how muddy and messy you become. He didn't just pass out, He died a death that you could not die, so you can live with God eternally in freedom - a place of no wounds.

Jesus took on that role and was willing to be left with scars because of His love and care for you. He had no regrets.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”  John 3:16 NIV

Notice His Gift. See His Sacrifice. Accept His Grace. Know He loves You.

If you would like to read more Easter blogs, here are a few links to my friend’s writing…

On Being Surprised by Susan Barnes - Click Here 

It’s Kind of a Big Deal - Good Friday by Karen Brough - Click Here

The Lord is There by Dienece Darling - Click Here

Surgery for Easter by Steph Penny - Click Here