When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side.

John 20:20(a)

I’ve always known Jesus would walk through a locked door for me, but what I didn’t know was how many times. For as many times as I’ve needed Him is as many times as he’s come to my aid. And while you may not suffer from the repercussions of trauma like I do, we all suffer from something.

Suffering is the universal language that every human speaks and understands.

Upon Jesus’ entry into the disciples’ locked and hidden place, He does a curious thing. He says to them, “Peace be with you,” and proceeds to show them his hands and his side. There is no doubt it was to confirm for the disciples that it was in fact Jesus, but it was also to show them that peace does not come in spite of our wounds, it comes because of them.

I have struggled with attaining peace for my entire life. I searched everywhere. Tried everything. There was no place, practice, or hiding spot that went untouched in my pursuit to find peace for my soul. And after a lifetime of searching, I found it. Not in riches or in a career or in a person, but in the wounds of Jesus Christ.

My wounded God. The God who walked through a locked door in a hidden place just to show me His wounds. The God that went and picked me up off the floor and returned me to my maker. The God who told me my life was worth it.

This Pentecost, let us rejoice in the gift of the Holy Spirit. It is the breath of God. The divine resuscitation we need to carry the message of the gospel to the wounded and the broken.