The other evening, I was riding my bike through the quiet paths of a nearby golf course. The sun was setting, birds were singing, and not a soul was in sight. It’s become a sort of evening ritual for me—a moment of peace, reflection, and freedom.
But that evening, a small accident turned into something much bigger.
I slipped while climbing down a ravine to rescue some stray golf balls, reached out to grab a wooden post for balance—and impaled my hand.
What followed wasn’t just a lesson in minor surgery (which, yes, I attempted with a scalpel and tweezers at home), but a powerful metaphor for the inner wounds we all carry… and often ignore.
🎯 The Splinters You Don’t See
At first, I thought I’d removed all the obvious debris from my hand. But days later, the swelling, redness, and pain revealed a deeper problem. When I finally cut into the skin myself, I pulled out a one-inch black shard of wood—buried completely out of sight.
It struck me then:
The most harmful wounds are often the ones hidden beneath the surface.
They irritate, they infect, and over time, they can become toxic. That’s not just true of physical injury—it’s true of trauma, shame, regret, and pain we pretend never happened.
And I say “we” because I’ve lived it.
I’ve buried things that hurt me years ago.
I told myself they weren’t a big deal.
I leaned on the idea that “faith” protected me from lasting damage.
But it didn’t. Not completely.
🩻 Wounds That Don’t Heal on Their Own
Some of the most painful events of my youth—moments of betrayal, abuse, disappointment—got buried deep. I moved on. Or so I thought.
But eventually, the emotional infection started to seep out.
It showed up in relationships.
In reactions I didn’t understand.
In the slow erosion of connection and trust.
It wasn’t until I was on the verge of implosion that I finally sought help. I went to therapy. I gave someone permission to carefully open up the wound and start digging.
What I thought were minor slivers turned out to be logs.
Big, buried pieces of trauma.
Still lodged in my soul.
🪶 You Are Not “Damaged Goods”
I feared what might happen if people saw my pain. Would they think less of me? Would I be cast aside?
But instead of rejection, something beautiful happened.
People were drawn to my honesty.
Those who really cared came closer.
And those who pulled away? They were never my people anyway.
There’s a powerful truth I’ve come to believe:
We are only as sick as our secrets.
Healing begins with exposure—not for public spectacle, but in safe spaces with people (or professionals) who are equipped to help us process what we've hidden.
📫 Nathan’s Letter—and the Unseen Work of Healing
A young man named Nathan works at that same golf course. I often chat with him. One day, I shared an illustration that moved him enough to write a heartfelt letter to his estranged mother—someone he hadn’t spoken to in years.
He mailed it. She received it.
But she hasn’t responded.
When he told me, I showed him the scar on my hand and said:
“You’ve taken the first step—you’ve pulled out a deep splinter from a broken relationship. It hasn’t healed yet, but now it can.”
Sometimes, healing is about doing what you can do—even when the outcome isn’t guaranteed. You don’t control other people. You control your effort. That’s where your power lies.
🪂 Between the Bars
Healing often feels like that moment a trapeze artist lets go of one bar… but hasn’t grabbed the next. You’re suspended in mid-air. You’ve released the past, but the future hasn’t shown up yet.
That’s terrifying. But if you keep your hands open, the next bar will come.
Maybe not from the person you hoped.
Maybe not in the way you expected.
But it will come.
❤️🩹 Your Turn
So now I’ll ask you:
What lies beneath your surface?
What slivers have you ignored because they were too painful, too hidden, or too easy to explain away?
Whether it was something done to you…
Or a regret about something you did…
Ignoring it will only allow the infection to spread.
You don’t have to live that way anymore.
Healing isn’t your fault, but it is your responsibility.
So pay attention. Get help.
And most importantly, trust the process—and the One who loves you through it.
You were never meant to carry those wounds alone.
And you’re not alone now.
🧡 Thanks for reading. If this message spoke to something in you, I’d love to hear from you in the comments—or feel free to share it with someone else who may need to hear it.
✉️ Subscribe if you’d like more stories of real healing, courageous faith, and finding hope in the hidden places.
👀 To watch my YouTube video on this subject, click here.
—
Joseph “MoJOE” McCarthy
Sharing courage, one scar at a time.