A week ago today, I was walking to the local market – they’re called colmados here in the D.R. – to pick up a couple of items. It was dark and there was a slight drizzle. I walked on the edge of the road (there are no sidewalks here) while facing oncoming traffic, armed only with an umbrella in one hand and a flashlight in the other. The flashlight served to both light my path and make me visible to cars heading in my direction.
My defense tactic worked like a charm with the first car to come my way. I saw a pair of headlights, I flicked my wrist from side to side, and the vehicle politely veered away from the edge of the road.
Upon seeing the second set of lights, I repeated my task of alerting the driver to my presence. As it turns out, my plan was not foolproof. The car continued to advance right at me. In my memory, I swear it even veered toward me. Having already stepped off the road and onto the shoulder, I had nowhere left to go for safety. Nowhere except for the ditch that runs parallel to the road.
The fall caused me to scrape my leg along the embankment of the ditch, an embankment that is perpetually smiling with teeth of rocks and stone. Ouch is an understatement. But being one week removed from the incident, my fancy scab graffiti is looking better.
It is said time heals all wounds. That is true both literally and figuratively, and it got me thinking of a post from a long time ago. So with this context in mind, I’d like to once again share this posting from over ten years ago.
“He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.” – Psalm 147:3 NLT