From the Inside

Each week I look forward to Friday night, our pizza night.
Most of the time our pizza is nothing fancy, in fact, it is the plain ol frozen variety, but occasionally we splurge and delight ourselves
with a delicious pie from a pizza parlor.
Having gotten quite adept at knowing how long it takes for our pizza to cook without a timer,
I fancied myself as a gourmet pizza goddess.
So it struck me hard the night I burned my arm while heating up our tantalizing treat, and brought me to reflect on my experience.

I heard the sizzle of my skin before I felt the pain.
My forearm caught the top of the oven ever so quickly.
It left a football shaped sear halfway up my arm.
The pain arrived quickly as I turned my attention from our meal to the throbbing of my arm, and
I went into action, applying ice to my injury.

Red, angry and singed, my arm began the process of healing.
A scab appeared keeping outside interference out as
inside of me, my cells had gone into action, flooding the area with their renewing capabilities.

As time went on, my arm continued to heal and transform.
No longer the angry red, a delicate shade of pink reminded me of the hurt.
Slowly and surely my arm was healing.
Weeks later just a outline of the football shape remained.
Months later, I have to look really hard at finding where I burned myself.

In reflection, I understand that the wounds in my life go through the same process.
Healing takes place inside of me, with aid from the outside.
I know what I need, and I fulfill those needs.
I allow time to mend the hurt, the injury, and I know that any scab that appears is an indication
of the healing going on from within.
Scars fade over time. Pain fades over time.
I remain, healed and whole.