It was a small moment.
One of those bedtime pauses every parent knows well—where the light is dim, the day is winding down, and tiny troubles suddenly feel big.

My son had a small wound on his finger—so small he couldn’t quite find it. But it was bothering him enough that he couldn’t sleep without a bandaid. So there we were, standing in his room, searching under the glow of his little lamp for a pain that was real to him, even if it wasn’t fully visible yet.

And as he searched, I simply said:
“When you’re ready, I have a bandaid.”

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✨ The Wounds We Can’t Always See

That moment stayed with me.
Because isn’t that how we often are with our own pain?

We feel the ache.
We sense the tenderness, the discomfort, the thing that just doesn’t sit right.
But we can’t always name it. We can’t always see it clearly.

And yet—it keeps us from resting. It lingers just enough to disrupt the peace we long for.

Sometimes the pain is sharp and known.
Other times, it’s vague—a quiet weariness, a question unanswered, a wound from the past we thought we’d buried.
And in those moments of uncertainty, of fumbling in the dim light for what’s hurting—we don’t always go to God right away.
We pace. We try to handle it. We look inward. We look around. We stall.

And yet, God waits.
Not with impatience. Not with rebuke. But with love.

Like a parent at the edge of a child’s bed, He says:
“When you’re ready, I have what you need.”

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🕊️ A God Who Waits with the Bandaid

There was something deeply comforting in that image—God, not rushing me to clarity, not demanding I hurry up and heal.

Just waiting.
With gentleness.
With readiness.

He knows we sometimes need time to name what’s hurting.
To bring it into the light.
To admit we need help.

And like a good parent, He doesn’t force us into healing. He simply holds the balm, the comfort, the peace—ready for when we’re ready to receive it.

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💛 Our Father, the Tender Healer

When I said to my son, “I have a bandaid when you’re ready,” I wasn’t frustrated with him.
I wasn’t trying to minimize his pain or rush him to sleep.
I just wanted him to know that I saw him.
That I was there.
And that whenever he found his wound—whenever he was ready to name it—I’d be ready to help.

That’s the kind of parent I want to be.
And it’s the kind of Father God is to us.

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🧡 For the Wounded, the Weary, and the Waiting

So if you find yourself in a season where something hurts, but you can’t quite put your finger on it…
If you’re tired but unsure why.
If your heart feels bruised but the cause feels small or hard to explain…

Know this:
God is not rushing you.
He’s not shaming you.
He’s not standing far off with arms crossed.

He’s close.
He’s patient.
He’s holding the healing.
And He’s whispering,
“When you’re ready, I have a bandaid.”

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With heart,
Patricia