06/02/2026
Christianity has far too many voices that would have us believe in a God who doesn’t wound us. But the Lord declares otherwise: “See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god beside me; I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal” (Dt. 32:39).
Or as we read today in Bible in One Year from Hosea, “Come, let us return to the LORD; for he has torn us, that he may heal us; he has struck us down, and he will bind us up. After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will raise us up, that we may live before him” (6:1-2).
Verses like these are summarized perfectly by Proverbs 3:12, “The LORD disciplines the one he loves” (see Hebrews 12:6).
Would a loving parent let a child get away with everything? Pour rat poison into his cereal? Run onto an interstate? Play with a loaded pistol? Of course not. That is the definition of unloving parenting.
So with our Father. He disciplines us because he cares for us. He knows that we often learn hard but necessary lessons only in our woundedness.
Our Father knows that it is only in our weakness and woundedness that we simultaneously discover our own ineptitude and his healing power. Without wounds, we foster an image of ourselves as strong and healthy.
But the hands that wound us—they themselves bear the stigmata of grace. Our Savior kills, but only to make alive; wounds, but only to heal. He is conforming us to his cruciform likeness so that we see ourselves exclusively in his resurrection reflection.
This is Christian growth: to become in our weakness more and more dependent on his strength, to seek in our woundedness more and more of his healing.