All great Christians have been wounded souls.
It is strange what a
wound will do to a man. Here's a soldier who goes out to the
battlefield. He is full of jokes and strength and self-assurance; then
one day a piece of shrapnel tears through him and he falls, a
whimpering, beaten, defeated man.
Suddenly his whole world collapses
around him and this man, instead of being the great, strong,
broad-chested fellow that he thought he was, suddenly becomes a
whimpering boy again.
And such have ever been known, I am told, to cry
for their mothers when they lie bleeding and suffering on the field of
There is nothing like a wound to take the self-assurance out of
us, to reduce us to childhood again and make us small and helpless in
our own sight.
Many of the Old Testament characters were wounded men, stricken of
God and afflicted indeed as their Lord was after them.
Take Jacob, for
instance. Twice God afflicted him; twice he met God and each time it
came as a wound, and one time it came actually as a physical wound and
he limped on his thigh for the rest of his life.
And the man Elijah-was
he not more than a theologian, more than a doctrinarian? He was a man
who had been stricken; he had been struck with the sword of God and was
no longer simply one of Adam's race standing up in his own
self-assurance; he was a man who had had an encounter with God, who had
been confronted by God and had been defeated and broken down before Him.
And when Isaiah saw the Lord high and lifted up, you know what it did
to him. Or take the man Ezekiel, how he went down before his God and
became a little child again. And there were many others.
Now the wounded man is a defeated man, I say; the strong, robust and
self-confident Adam-man ceases to fight back any longer; he lays down
his sword and surrenders and the wound finishes him.
~A. W. Tozer~