Scars are Wounds that have Healed

Last week I had CPR training through my work.

I’m now certified.

I pray that I never have to use it, or if I do, then it will be with victorious results.

As I worked on the dummy during training memories came back to me in full force.

On August 17, 2010, my husband was on the job. He was working on a truck that had an arm on it when the operator hit the power line. He was electrocuted. He fell to the ground, and his heart stopped.

His coworkers acted quickly, bringing out an AED unit and were able to get his heart beating again.


But because his injuries were so severe, having received internal burns, he never regained consciousness. A few days later we said goodbye to him.

Losing my husband left a gaping hole in my heart. For many months, I had dreams where we had a funeral for him and he wasn’t really dead. It’s as if my subconscious had as hard a time accepting the loss as I consciously did. I got out of bed each morning because I had kids who no longer had two parents and depended on me to meet their needs.

They say that time heals wounds.

It takes more than just time.

I had many people praying for me. I also had the support of family and good friends who prayed for me and listened to me cry. I went to grief counseling. I took an antidepressant faithfully. I found comfort in songs, both from the hymnal and contemporary Christian music.

In 2013, I passed the third anniversary of his death wishing I were a drinker. I’ve never had an alcoholic drink, but I craved it and the escape it could provide.

Instead I bought a “death by chocolate” cake and ate almost the whole thing. My blood sugar skyrocketed.

A few weeks later, I believe God answered my prayers and all those who’d been praying for me when I was introduced to a Christian counselor in my area. I started seeing her once a week.

I was stuck in grief and depression. Through her counseling and effort on my part, I gradually came out of that dark pit. At first I lived life in the shadows. After an especially hard 2020, I feel like now, in 2021, I am living in the full light of victory in my life.

I have two books published and a third underway. I have more ideas for future books than I have time to write. I have a blog that is thriving. I have a good job that challenges me and helps me be a better person.

I have three independent adult children whom I’m close to and who enjoy each other’s company.

I’m “living the dream” as a bread distributor once said every time he was asked how he was doing.

The downside is: I no longer have my best friend and rock that was my husband.

Still, I can say today that the wound from my husband’s tragic death has healed. There is a scar there. I’ll always remember him and miss his presence in my life. I’ll never be the person I was before he died.

But I’ve become independent and confident in my abilities. I have more empathy for people who are suffering. I recognize that time with our loved ones is precious.

Scars show up when a wound has healed.

May God begin healing your wounds today.

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