“The Wounded Identity”
Larry D. Kettle
I have spent a lifetime grappling with a “wounded identity”. I know what it means to be victimized and I know what it means to “be the victim”. I was wounded by a sense of abandonment from my mother. I was seven when my father passed away and it left me with a sense of loneliness and insecurity. I was wounded by ridicule and humiliation from students on the school grounds. The physical abuse that I endured when I was eight and nine years old further solidified my wounded psyche.
At ten and eleven I was tasked with raising my younger sister while my mother escaped to her job. (I know that is not what she meant to do it is how I felt about it.) In my early teens I was sexually abused by someone close to me and ended up lonely, confused, angry and isolated. Furthermore, I was emotionally trapped by guilt. Anger was a sin, forgiveness was an absolute, and I could not be forgiven and be angry according to “my perception”. Hypocrisy was a way of escape but it was not a way of fulfillment. I hoped that I could “act” my way to personal reality. I hoped that I could “impress” my way into acceptance and popularity and bury the “wounded child”. The wounded child followed me into my adult life and continued to plague me with insecurity, over-sensitivity, and overwhelming guilt. The goals that I had set to prove my worth and value included getting married, becoming a Pastor, becoming a recording artist, and songwriter. The goals were met but the results were unsatisfactory.
The ways that I chose to deal with my issues were quite different from the way that others chose to deal with theirs. I tended to be aggressive in trying to win the recognition and approval of others. I wanted to prove to others that I was valuable and that I was not what “others were thinking of me”. The thing I didn’t understand is that people were not necessarily thinking more or less; the fact is they weren’t really thinking about me at all. My attempts to make myself feel better usually had the opposite affect. I would try to fix what I perceived to be “someone else’s false perception”, and then I would find myself in the middle of a real mess. As a grade-schooler I thought of myself as a “little sissy” and a “momma’s boy”. My brother told me that was the case and he usually would prove it to me by hitting me in the arm or giving me an “Indian burn”. He usually succeeded in bringing me to tears. I set out one day to prove to my self and to my class that I was not a momma’s boy. I ended up picking a fight with a classmate who I thought I could whip. I threw a few punches at him and he ran away crying. My classmates that came with me didn’t cheer for me as I had imagined. They turned away in disgust and now I had two problems. I thought of myself as a momma’s boy and they thought of me as a “bully”. The truth was that I had a wounded identity. I was defensive, insecure, and obnoxious. I used to think that I was the only one who had these kinds of problems.
Adulthood doesn’t necessarily bring automatic healing to a wounded identity. Time does not heal all wounds. Sticks and stones break your bones and so do words! Perception is reality to the one perceiving. As Grandma used to say, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder!” Jesus taught us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves but unfortunately I did not love myself. Therefore I was self-absorbed, self-centered and I was a self-fulfilling prophet. I had an incurable wound. It was incurable because the way that I went about healing the wound was the method of its infection. I would try to gain approval and would receive disapproval. I would try to gain admiration and would gain disdain. I would try to impress someone and would end up depressed. As long as I tried
to heal my wounds this way my wounds only grew deeper and became more serious. One day I had a dear pastor friend and colleague in ministry say to me, “physician heal thyself”. I was taken back at his lack of tact. I was offended at his insensitivity. After all he should, of all people, understand what it is like to be a pastor! And then I got it; he was challenging me to apply the medicine to myself that I was giving to others.
Do I get wounded still? Yes! Do I experience disappointment? Absolutely! Do I still have a wounded identity? No! I have the healer living on the inside of me. When I am wounded I can go to the word and find the affirmation that I need. When I receive disapproval I can go to Jesus and find approval. When someone reminds me of how “unimpressed” they are with me I can go to Jesus and be reminded that people weren’t impressed with him either. And furthermore I am impressive to the one who will ultimately evaluate my worth and value!
The scars that are seen on the hands, feet, and side of Jesus Christ are an eternal reminder that our wounds have been healed. The stripes that are on his back are a memorial of the promise that He has made to us. Our wounds are not incurable. When we hold tightly to a “wounded identity”, we are afraid to let go of the anger, resentment, hurt, and memory of the offence. We are afraid that if the offense is released that it will open the door for it to happen again. A “wounded identity” is defensive in nature. When we remain offended we will be defensive. Letting go of offense seems risky because it means that we “lose control”.
Jesus carries the scars from his wounds so that we can look at him and see that we don’t have to carry the “wounded identity”. Instead, we can take on the “identity of the healed”. When we fully release the control to Christ we also release our perceived responsibility to defend ourselves and to protect others from potential victimization. Jesus finished the healing work supernaturally, eternally, and completely.
Isaiah 53 is often quoted in the context of physical healing and that is good but it also applies to emotional healing too. The chapter refers to affliction and oppression and sorrow as much as it does to infirmities. It is important that we see that Jesus was oppressed, afflicted, and carried our sorrows. That means that He doesn’t need our help with carrying sorrows. That means he doesn’t need our assistance with relieving oppression. And that means that we do not have to see ourselves as “afflicted”. We do not need to carry around the “Wounded Identity” any longer. We have been delivered from transgression and iniquity and we are saved. We have been healed and restored and we do not live with continual infirmity. We are no longer oppressed, afflicted, and victims of any kind. Just as we see the memorial in heaven of the scars that are on the hands and feet of Jesus, and just as we see the wounds on his back we also see him as having been afflicted, oppressed and acquainted with sorrow; as a lamb. The Lamb that was slain is now the Lion of Judah, the avenger, and the deliverer! Heaven has had a transition. He is now the Lion of Judah! He was the Lamb that was slain; now He is the Lion that is roaring. Oppression, hear him roar! Sorrow, hear him laugh, affliction, hear him shake the ground as he comes to deliver! Don’t settle for relief from the pain in your neck. Allow Him to relieve you so that you won’t be a pain in someone elses!
