When I was in college, my brother-in-law introduced me to a product called Rain-X. It was great for those long drives to school, which sometimes included rainstorms. You just wipe it on your windshield, and it creates an invisible layer of resistance. The beads of water roll off without the need for wipers. The downside, however, is that it created a mild film on your windshield leading to glare and limited visibility. Whether it was sunlight during the day or headlights at night, what was meant to be invisible protection became a problem.

Similarly, for many years, “You can’t hurt me!” became my personal motto. I was, and still am, passionate about and convicted of the message of God’s unconditional love and care. I love caring for the hurts of others, yet I would talk myself out of accepting that same care God had in mind for me. When I lost my father to a cancer battle in my 20s, I threw myself into being strong and in control. As I set out to care for others, I would be the strong one. One of my first experiences with this renewed determination led to a divisive church split. People I trusted–and thought had deep care for me–had become my attackers. They walked away en masse. 

In my mind, I was determined that I could not be hurt or offended. It’s no surprise, then, that my relationships became transactional, and my sense of worth wavered. What followed was a pattern of 10, 15, and even 20 years of relationships crumbling in confusion and rejection. Each time, I would move on because “traumatic losses cannot hurt.” I even had a bible verse to aid me in my denial: “A person’s wisdom yields patience; it is to one’s glory to overlook an offense” (Proverbs 19:11, NIV).

At last, full of brokenness and despair, I was forced to reach out for God’s care. I didn’t believe I was worthy of the love and care God had for me, but I asked for it anyway. Psalm 43:5 comes to mind: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God” (NIV). I finally started to talk about my hurt and what I needed. To my surprise, it was God–and God’s people–who helped me step out of the cloudy, hazy film of self-determination and self-protection into the clarity of hope. 

A windshield with Rain-X is the picture of many of our hearts. The invisible protective film clouds and blurs the view of our real hurt and real needs. I praise God that my film is disappearing as I learn to say, “Oh, that hurts.” I now believe I am worth the care God has for me. So, I name my hurt and find my care. I go after the same care that is readily available for you–if you are willing to name the hurt. Together, let’s begin to clear the film, dump the motto “You can’t hurt me,” and name our hurt to a God who sees, knows, and passionately desires to care for us.

Contributed by: Pat Puglisi

Reflection:

1. On day 4, we reflected on acknowledging difficult emotions. We often avoid confronting our pain through various self-protection methods. Take a look at the list below; these are common ways we try to shield ourselves from hurt and discomfort, even though they can prevent us from receiving God’s care and healing. At a glance, which of these tendencies do you recognize in yourself?
   
   
   • Distraction: constantly staying busy to avoid thinking about or feeling the pain
   • Numbing: using things like food, alcohol, entertainment, or work to dull emotional discomfort
   • Denial: refusing to acknowledge that a problem exists, downplaying its significance
   • Isolation: withdrawing from relationships or community to avoid vulnerability or judgment
   • Perfectionism: trying to control everything or be “perfect” to avoid feeling inadequate or hurt
   • Defensiveness: becoming defensive when faced with criticism or challenges, instead of opening up
   • Shifting blame: avoiding personal accountability by shifting responsibility onto others
   • Over-spiritualizing: using religious phrases or practices as a way to bypass emotional processing (e.g., “God’s got it” or “I’ll just pray it away”) without addressing the underlying issue
   • Building emotional walls: creating barriers between yourself and others to avoid vulnerability, intimacy, or potential hurt, often resulting in emotional disconnection
   • Minimizing pain: downplaying or dismissing your own pain or trauma by telling yourself “it’s not that bad” or comparing your struggles to others’ in order to avoid confronting deeper emotions
      
2. Reflecting on this list, how might you start practicing self-compassion in moments of discomfort? What small steps can you take to gently acknowledge and validate your feelings, rather than instinctively reaching to shield yourself from them?
    
3. What tools or resources (e.g., journaling, therapy, support groups, reaching out to a friend) can you explore to help you better understand and confront your emotional pain?