One evening, needing a supply of soft drinks, Dad decided it would be a good time for his teenage daughter to get a little practice driving. Giving her the keys to his shiny new truck, he asked her older brother to ride along. Earlier he had told his family, who knew he really liked his new truck, that though it was the nicest car he had ever owned, it was not a “permanent thing.” His heart wasn’t set on it, for it would get old and rusty. “Never,” he had told them, “set your heart on anything that’s temporary.”
Later that evening there was a loud crash in the street followed by a noisy commotion as his family came rushing into his office.
“Dad, Dad,” cried 13-year-old Charlie who led the charge, “Holly just wrecked your truck.”
Running upstairs and out the door, he expected to find a disaster in the street. What a relief to find the accident had happened in their own driveway! Holly had momentarily confused the brake and accelerator pedals and collided with the family van. Both vehicles were damaged, but no one was hurt.
But his daughter was brokenhearted. She kept sobbing softly, “Oh, Dad, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Dad. I know how much you love your truck.”
Without a word Dad gently put his arms around his daughter, hugging her until the crying stopped. Soon, a comforted girl was returning her dad’s smile as he told her, “Don’t worry about the truck, honey. I’m just thankful you and Jesse weren’t hurt.”
The next day at work he recounted the experience to another employee. With tear-filled eyes she replied, “That happened to me when I was a girl. I borrowed my dad’s new car and ran into a log that had fallen across the road. The car was totaled, but I was able to drive it home. When I got there, my dad yanked me out of the car, knocked me down and kicked me. That happened thirty years ago, but I’ve never been able to deal with the hurt it caused me.”
Holly’s dad repaired the van, but he purposely left the wrinkle in the hood of his truck. When asked why he didn’t fix his new truck he replied, “To remind me that having a damaged truck isn’t important, but I don’t ever want to be responsible for having damaged my daughter’s heart.”
Our blessed Lord is the supreme Healer of damaged hearts. The damaged heart (and life) of the woman taken in adultery (John 8) was healed the moment He uttered those forgiving, gracious words, “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.” And what a vast throng with damaged hearts have been healed by our loving Saviour, who, from the agony of Calvary’s cross, uttered those divinely precious words: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” May we always act in that spirit!
Are we being careful not to cause damage to our brethren’s hearts? Are we, by our actions, hurters of brethren or are we, as walking in love, their healers?
Ed.