Wounded and free.

Does time really heal all wounds?

What does it mean to "heal" anyway?  Is it: reaching a state of acceptance?  If so, is the wound ever gone...or does it just scab over and leave a scar?
Maybe what really happens is: time humbles us enough to know that through pain, the heart can be softened in order to be better for next time.

I think we were meant to be free.

                          "It is for freedom that I have set you free."


I think there's a reason Jesus showed people his scars...

Disjointed thoughts.
Jumbled together to create a messy masterpiece.
 
I know why the caged bird sings. 
Can we assume we know why the caged bird sings, or can we only compare to our own cages? Does the free bird know it's free?

Maybe I need to stop asking questions, stop contemplating and being safe, and start recognizing the freedom that comes from being free...