Chapter 13
Healing Where It Hurts
Scars remain but make me strong, each wound teaches right from wrong — mend myself where pain was deep, grow new strength while others sleep.
Where thorns had pricked and heavy stones had pressed,
where old wounds lingered and the pain stayed dressed
in silence, I knelt down and touched each place —
not to undo, but to give them gentle grace.
I let the sunlight warm the tender parts,
let rain wash clean the dust of broken hearts.
Slowly the sharp edges softened into strength,
deep scars became the roots of greater length.
What once was aching now holds history,
proof of the battles fought and won by me.
I mended what I could, and let the rest
turn into wisdom, beautiful and blessed.
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