Trauma Wound 1

 JB Devo

This is the beginning of a 3-part series on trauma.

Not the textbook kind.

The real kind—the kind that sits heavy in your chest long after the moment has passed.

The kind that keeps you up at night.

This is for the ones still bleeding on the inside.

If that’s you, I want you to know something before we go any further:

You’re not alone.

You don’t forget the first time something breaks inside you.

Maybe it was a blast.

Maybe it was betrayal.

Maybe it was the sound of dirt hitting a coffin lid while your heart begged God to wake you up.

Trauma doesn’t knock.

It kicks the door in and sets up camp in your soul like it owns the place.

And suddenly you’re not you anymore.

You're just a shadow of the person you used to be,

gripping a smile so people don’t ask too many questions.

But inside?

Inside, you’re screaming.

I’ve seen war.

Smelled death.

Held a man’s last breath in my hands and told him he was going to be okay when I knew he wasn’t.

I’ve walked off the battlefield only to find another one waiting at home.

The silence.

The flashbacks.

The guilt that doesn’t care what medals you have or what you meant to do.

Guilt doesn’t negotiate. It accuses.

And maybe your war didn’t look like mine.

Maybe yours was a childhood no one protected.

A relationship that bled you dry.

An addiction that whispered lies until you believed them.

But the wound?

The wound feels the same.

It’s raw.

It’s real.

And it haunts you.

Let me tell you something that took me years to understand:

Jesus isn’t afraid of that wound.

He’s not waiting for you to clean it up.

He’s not standing on the sidelines with a clipboard, judging your scars.

He’s the kind of Savior who walks into the mess—

blood, dirt, tears and all—

and says, “I’ve been here too.”

This series won’t be neat and tidy.

It won’t offer quick fixes or religious clichés.

It’ll be real—because healing starts there.

This is Part 1: The Wound.

Next comes Part 2: The War Within.

Then we’ll close with Part 3: The Healer.

But for now, sit with this truth:

You’re not alone.

And your wound doesn’t disqualify you.

It just means you’re human…

and maybe, just maybe,

you're the kind of person Jesus came running for.