By Lindsey Smith, Indigenous Missionary Lead
The word trauma comes from the Greek word τραῦμᾰ, which literally means wound. It first rose in popularity in the late 1600s to describe physical injuries, but in the 19th century, people began to recognize that wounds can exist on more than a physical level. By the 20th century, it became widely accepted that “traumatic events” could have lasting effects on the body and soul that were not necessarily visible.
In his book The Wounded Heart, Dan Allender asserts that often the greatest enemy to healing from trauma is the presence of shame. Shame has a tendency to drive people away from facing their wounds, and the result of that neglect or denial is the inability to heal.
As I reflected on this insight and on the presence of shame in my own life, I began to see parallels between how shame functions and how an infection spreads in the body. Shame—whether born from our own sin or from the sins committed against us—attaches guilt to who we are rather than simply to what we or others have done. If trauma is the wound, then shame is the infection that seeps in when that wound is left untended. Instead of drawing us toward healing, shame convinces us to hide what hurts.
When we cover, deny, or neglect the reality of that injury—the bacteria of shame begins to take up residence. It spreads deep into the wound, until things begin to die and we start to feel the consequences of our unwillingness to address the problem. This result can be understood as necrosis of the soul.
Once a physical wound develops necrosis, no amount of antibiotics or topical ointments will heal it. It requires the work of a physician. He must cut into the wound, removing what is dead and exposing what is still viable. The initial treatment can almost seem like a re-injury. It can be extremely painful, leaving the wound bleeding again and sore. But what the physician is doing is removing what is dead to make room for new growth and life. This process of debridement is usually the most painful part of wound care in its early stages, but it may need to be repeated if the tissue becomes reinfected.
A good physician will then check the wound often, cleansing it and encouraging the new tissue to form, layer by layer, from the inside out, until repair has taken place. While there is a time for cutting, there is also a time for mending (Ecclesiastes 3:7). He is careful not to be too harsh with the new tissue growth, knowing that cleansing requires a gentle hand just as much as the scalpel requires a steady one.
So also, the exposure and removal of shame’s stronghold in our hearts requires thorough treatment—as well as gentle nurturing of the new beliefs that replace it. Exposing what is dead inside might feel excruciating. One might cry out: “Lord, this is too much for me! I cannot bear to feel this wound again. At least the dead tissue was numb! I don’t know if the cost of healing is worth it.”
To this, our Great Physician can respond: “I know—I suffered this death too. I was wounded too. I know this pain; I walked this path. And now I walk with you. You must trust Me. Because this wound you have, this infection of shame, it will not remain static. It will keep eating away at your soul until there is no more life there. It will spread until all meaning and feeling has left you.”
But on the other side of this procedure that feels like a second death, there is the hope of an abundant life. There is the promise of resurrection and renewal that runs deeper than any wound could reach.
It is important to note that the Physician does not promise that, on this side of heaven, another wound will not come—that harm will stay away and we will never require healing again. But He does promise to address each one as they come, with His expert care and compassionate presence. And with each scar we carry, we are reminded not only of the pain the wound once held, but also of the faithful, healing hands of the Great Physician who walked with us through every ache until the wound gave way to the quiet testimony of a scar.
Sources
Dan B. Allender, The Wounded Heart: Hope for Adult Victims of Childhood Sexual Abuse (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 1990).
Danielle Rousseau, “A Brief History of Trauma and PTSD,” Danielle Rousseau, PhD (blog), August 11, 2024, https://sites.bu.edu/
My Mom (a seasoned wound care enthusiast, nurse, and trusted source of wisdom), conversation with the author, June 20, 2025.
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