I have been putting them on for years...bright smiley ones, fun silly ones, plain nude colored ones, all with the same goal unrealistic goal; major wound healing. None of my cute band-aides have come close to the healing of major surgery.
If I may put on my nursing hat for a minute...
there is no way to healing a 10 cm ulceration with a measly band aide. Medically and scientifically it isn't going to happen no how matter how meticulous you are nursing the wound. Especially if it is deep and been there for 30 years. That type of wound needs to be looked at by a general surgeon, to be taken to the operating room for debridement and a packing and an antibiotic flushing. To heal well, the wound needs to be uncovered, looked at, drained, and debrided. Gross I know but healing must get messy, even bleed to really heal.
So I have tried many a band-aides to sooth my deep ache in my heart. I tried with a noble (sterile) effort to heal something broken inside of me with little success It wasn't until I could take a good hard look at the pain. And the purpose of my microscopic look isn't to blame anyone; rather to bring light into the wounds I hid (give a long truthful look at the pain's source).
I have spent thousands and thousands of dollars on emotional band-aides. Now truly with all my heart I thought I was doing hard work with those band-aides but I never allowed all the pain of abuse to surface. I was always afraid that if I ever starting crying I would never stop. I believed if I just had the right stuff, medication, friendships, perfectionism, family, house, job, being a "good person or Christian" I would no longer hurt with a throbbing pain. Oh I tried it and all of it. By only the grace of a loving heavenly father I didn't try the "big 3" only because I feared I would surely get me a first class ticket to hell if I participated in sex, drugs or alcohol (can you see the guilty rules which I tried to regulate my life under) .
So almost a year ago I finally took myself to the Operating room. Because I knew that I was slowly dying of a broken heart that couldn't mend itself. I couldn't stop the response of my body, depression flooded my soul like a raging ocean, anxiety made my stomach do cartwheels, infection after infection all took a toll. So here I was standing in my less than covering hospital gown; begging the great Physician to take me into the Operating room to debride my heart. Yes I was naked, ashamed that I couldn't; but he could and is. So I am still in surgery a year later... it is still painful but I can see that He is doing a work in me that I wasn't able to heal with my measly band-aids. I had to have my wounds scraped till they bleed and now I can see them healing.
In the last year I have become a help-mate instead of an anchor dragging behind my husband and a self sacrificing mother that can love without being triggered to deep feelings of debilitating shame. I am becoming Free!! And my wounds will one day become scars, all attesting to the mighty work of God. Instead of getting infected and spreading my anger, shame, and bitterness around like a communal epidemic I can cultivate hope and peace.
Romans 15: 4 and 13 "For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope...May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."