Scripture: Mark 1:40-45, Matthew 26:6-13
Recently, in therapy, I was talking with my therapist about something that made me uncharacteristically angry.
“Anger is a secondary emotion,” she said.
“What else could you be feeling? Unappreciated? Disrespected? Frustrated?”
“That’s IT!” I exclaimed.
“Unappreciated. Disrespected! BOTH of those are exactly how I feel in this situation! Thank you for helping me find the right words.”
Then she levied the heavy!
“While each of those emotions are relevant in this situation, perhaps the degree to which you feel them is a little extreme.
Could there be other times in your life where you felt unappreciated and disrespected?”
I laughed out loud. Really? What a question.
I quickly thought, “Nearly every part of my life has felt that sting—my stepmother, uninterested in a 9-year-old daughter when she was in her 50s. Work situations I didn’t choose but had to endure. And the list goes on.”
But I was not prepared for what would happen next . . . tears.
As much as I cry over literally ANYTHING . . . I hate tears. Especially when they reveal my own woundedness.
Truthfully, I had no idea the pain ran that deep. And this was just a few weeks ago. I thought I had a better grasp on stuff than that!
I suspect I’m not alone.
For each of us, there are wounds that run deeper than the skin. For Simon the Leper, his disease was more than physical suffering—it was a life of exclusion, a forced isolation that declared him untouchable.
Have you ever felt that way?
Excluded.
Rejected.
Alone.
Unloved.
Wounds that are more invisible than visible? Ever heard the phrase, “There is so much more than meets the eye.”
For Simon the leper, Jesus did the unthinkable: he touched him.
And he does the exact same for us, too.
“If you are willing, you can make me clean.” Not just heal me, but restore me. Not just remove my pain, but bring me back into the fullness of life. Jesus, in that moment, didn’t just see a man with a disease—he saw someone aching for belonging, for wholeness.
After his healing, Simon is no longer a man pushed to the edges. He becomes a host—welcoming Jesus into his home, creating space for others to encounter the divine. The hands once covered in sores now serve the Savior. The one once known for his brokenness is now known for his hospitality.
What parts of our lives have we believed to be too broken, too untouchable? They are buried so deep, that frankly, it would take keen insight of probing questions to unearth the pain.
Do you have the courage to be seen?
Jesus reaches into those places—not just to remove the pain, but to bring restoration.
We must become vulnerable. Give space to those places that are unseen. Allow ourselves, our deepest wounds to be seen. It is in being seen that we become whole.
Prayer:
Jesus, you see the parts of me I’d rather keep hidden. The wounds I’ve buried, the shame I carry, the places that long for healing. Touch those places, not just to take away the pain, but to bring me into fullness. Restore me—not just to wholeness, but to a life of purpose and connection. Amen.
Daily Practice:
Reflect on an area of your life where you feel disconnected—whether from God, from others, or even from yourself. What would it mean to invite Jesus into that place today?