I noticed her and those tell-tale marks on her face from far across the room. At the first break of our writer’s conference, I ran over to her, breathless with anticipation.
“Hey, I don’t mean to be weird or anything, but I notice that you have nasal cannula indentations on your cheeks, and I know that means you wear oxygen at night. I usually have those marks on my cheeks, too, but I didn’t have a portable tank to take with me, so I’m sleeping without it here at the conference.”
She didn’t even hesitate. She reached out and lovingly – knowingly – hugged me. We had an instant bond. We chatted non-stop for 20 minutes. We both have debilitating lung diseases for which there is no cure. We were both feeling a bit discouraged at this conference because it was set in the mountains at a high elevation and the campus was very hilly – two things that make people with sucky lungs cringe.
It has been a hard two years for both of us. We were both told by our physicians that COVID would not be kind to us, and we needed to avoid it if at all possible. We both felt isolated, lonely, bored, and angry after two years of this COVID nightmare. We shared sadness about strained relationships. We admitted feeling unloved, devalued, and discarded when people we loved diminished the devastation of COVID and refused to take precautions on our behalf.
The tears flowed uncontrollably and I think I made a blubbering scene for onlookers.
As two people with lung diseases amidst the worst pandemic in the modern world, we both also suffered from PTSD and I know, for me, I desperately NEEDED her. But here’s the thing: I didn’t know how much I needed her. I had open, oozing, un-attended wounds and didn’t realize it until she walked in the room. Seeing her just made me acknowledge I am hurt. I am suffering and I need someone who gets me.
I didn’t know how deep my wounds were until we started talking and shared all kinds of bottled-up emotions.
Later that day, I mused how my view on those nasal cannula indentations had changed. I’m no longer embarrassed by them. I’m glad I have them so that others who are oxygen-dependent can recognize me as someone who shares their wounds. I also mused that it would be kind of nice if people wore baseball caps emblazoned with a logo of the wounds they carry to help us all identify one another. I’d like the people with the following wounds to wear identifying ball caps so I could find them more easily:
- Not loved all that well by my daddy.
- Spent our kids’ college funds and our retirement funds on living overseas because we refused to raise support just to live like Jesus, for Jesus’ sake.
- Gains weight even if I swallow my own spit.
It is through the sharing of our pain and truly being known and understood in that pain, that we can begin to find healing.
And what about you, my friends? What wounds are you carrying that no one can see? Who is it that you need to meet just to feel that you are not so alone in your woundedness? Therefore, what kind of logos would you want to see on someone’s ball cap that would make you want to run to them, hug them, and say, “YES! Me, too! Me, too!”
Ball caps that said:
- Abused as a child. No one knows.
- My spouse is cheating on me.
- I drink my troubles away. Every day.
- We want a child, but can’t get pregnant.
- My business partner takes advantage of my hard work ethic.
- I don’t think I love my husband anymore.
- I don’t have any friends.
- I’m six months pregnant and just found out our baby has Down’s Syndrome.
- I secretly dream about running away from it all.
- I’m depressed and have fleeting thoughts of suicide.
- I have a prodigal child.
- Had an abortion in high school that no one knows about.
- I have cancer and I don’t feel like fighting it anymore.
Finding someone with the same kind of wounds is good, life-giving, and necessary. It’s also biblical:
“Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ.” Galations 6:2
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” John 13:34
“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. 3 Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” Ephesians 4: 2,3
“Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act.” Proverbs 3:27
So here’s the deal, fellow sufferers – unless we get real with one another and share our woundedness, NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW and the healing that is available to us, through Christ and his people, won’t be known in its fullest form.
Unless we have nasal cannula marks on our faces or choose to wear a baseball cap with a bold logo, NO ONE KNOWS OUR WOUNDS.
So, may you, by the grace of God, find the strength to share your wounds with a few trusted souls. May you find that the sharing of your wounds exposes those hurts and pains to the light where the light can chase away the darkness. May you find some inner peace as you let out that which has always been bottled in. May you know that the God of all creation created other individuals WITH YOUR SAME WOUNDS to be there for you when you are feeling alone – you need only to reach out to them.
Don’t be ashamed of your nasal cannula indentations. They may be the very thing somebody needs to see today to bring about their healing.