My quarantine gave me time to reflect on how I arrived at this abundant place—belonging to this new husband, enjoying this lovely, peace-filled home, this graced season.

I arrived via woundedness.

What if you got exactly the wound you needed in order to become the person you have become, to fulfill the destiny you are called to create, that ‘sacred wound’ in which you were hurt in exactly the way life needed you to be? – Joie Foster

Photo by Joe Gardner on Unsplash

We missed my grandson’s wedding on the other side of the mountains because I tested positive for COVID. We cancelled a commitment to help our friends who were feeding a rambunctious crew of teenagers at the end of a river float. We declined dinner at a food truck with some of our favorite people.

The quarantine meant long hours sitting and dozing on the couch and eventually in an Adirondack chair in the warm sunshine. It meant time to read and pray and think and write, sipping gallons of cinnamon spice tea and munching on saltine crackers, leaving crumbs everywhere.

At some point, in between reading books and trying to get creative in filling up those interminable sitting-still moments, I said to Dan, “Do you want to hear all the things I love about you?”

He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t deter me in the least. “I love how you run to help other people. I love your sense of humor. I love that you enjoy my cooking. I love that you love your family and mine. I love that you appreciate getting outdoors as much as I do.”

The list was actually quite long.

Yes, I arrived at this abundant place by way of deep loss and heartbreak, and at the time I didn’t consider it a sacred wound. But I see it now for what it is as it shaped me more into kindness, compassion, and empathy, as it brought me more into a desperate dependency upon my heavenly Father.

I became more weathered, in a good way. I learned more gratitude, more contentment. More releasing of things beyond my control.


If you find yourself in an unplanned slowing-down place, could it be an unexpected gift with time to ponder and read and let the most important people in your life know how much they mean to you?

If you find yourself in a place of woundedness, could you come to think of it as a discovery of the destiny you were created for … even if the pain is hard and it doesn’t feel as if any good could ever, ever come from it?

The rest of Joie Foster’s quote goes like this:

It is profound to realize that your life, exactly the way it is—filled with failures and frustrations, as well as miracles and extraordinary moments—is a masterpiece.

The Apostle Paul wrote this in a letter to the ancient church at Philippi:

There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.

— Philippians 1:6, The Message

In love, God allowed my woundedness. It was part of the good work He started in me. And it sculpted me into the person I have become. It formed my current “for such a time as this” place.

My purpose in life isn’t just about me. It’s for the people God has placed in my path. I was created to be exactly where I find myself, surrounded by all my people and all Dan’s people.

And it was my sacred wound that got me here.

The most important ‘more’ lesson? I can trust God more with the hard and holy things of life.