When I lived in Houston, we lived next door to a five year old pistol named Blake. At five, he was already becoming a hardened criminal. He would lie when the truth was just as good, cheat any chance he got. He wandered the neighborhood aimlessly.
His mom and dad had just installed this really fine gas light in the front yard. It wasn’t like any other gas light. It was really fancy. Big elaborate glass globe, all one piece. They were very proud of it.
We all gathered to admire it.
One day I was in my garage and I heard Blake scream bloody murder. It was like a police siren. His wails were coming from his front yard toward my house. As he turned the corner the noise became clear: “I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead. . . what will I do. . .”
Blake was out of his mind with fear. Blake, what in the world is going on? Come to find out, Blake had been playing with the water hose and had squirted water onto the red-hot glass globe on that gas light. The water bored a hole right through it.
I wanted to say, “yeah Blake, you’re dead all right.”
And truth is, Blake had done so many sneaky bad things I was thinking, he deserves it.
I asked, “Blake, what will you do?”
By now he had regained his composure, and that wild look was back in his eyes. He was really wishing he hadn’t confessed to me. “I don’t know.”
I said, “Blake this is a good opportunity to own up to a mistake. Your dad won’t kill you. You couldn’t have known. And he will be proud that you told him.”
With more words, I managed to convince Blake that he should confess. So he walked to the front door of his house like some 1920’s gangster going to the electric chair. I went back to work in my garage. That’s when I heard the eruption.
“Blaaaaaaakeeee you stupppidddd idiottttt you did what!”
It was laced with profanity. Off the chart eruption. I turned the corner to see this dad dragging the 5 year old out to examine his damage as he continued to harangue him for breaking the holy gas light.
I thought to myself, “Now I know why that little boy is so tough. His little heart is layered with scars.”
You might be like Blake. Your heart bears the scars of past hurts. I wanted to remind you that Jesus is your healer. .
(Luke 4:18) The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord.
(Matthew 11:28) Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.