Scars

Unless you lived in a ball of bubble wrap, I’m pretty sure acquiring scars is a normal part of growing up.  I have one on my knee from a bike accident when I was 6, one on my foot from chickenpox when I was 4, one on my finger from the blades on a set of cattle clippers when I was in high school, and one on my chin from a diving board accident in 5^th grade.  (A) has a rather gnarly scar on his knee from a pretty serious chainsaw accident in college.  Last week (a) happened to notice it one evening when his daddy was wearing shorts and asked what it was.  All these years later we kind of laughed about it and told him THAT is the reason Mommy makes Daddy wear his special chaps when he uses his chainsaw. 

Every one of those scars has a story.  If you have a scar, it is pretty unlikely that you simply have no idea where it came from.  In the case of growing up with my sisters, some of the scars we bear are the most told and notable stories of our childhood together.  And now, years later when the wounds have healed and the scars are all that is left, we tell those stories with a little different perspective that when they first happened.  Now they are often the source of laughter or eye rolls.  Some scars we look back on and think about how differently things could have turned out.  (A) has a large scar on his forehead from a car accident on black ice.  We don’t laugh about that one because we are still so grateful that the accident wasn’t more catastrophic.  I don’t look begrudgingly at the large scar on my abdomen, because I look at the dimpled face of a little boy that scar gave me.

Those scars aren’t going anywhere.  They are on our bodies for life, they bear stories for life, they serve as reminders of things we will never forget.  But, the wounds that caused the scars have healed.  There isn’t physical pain associated with them anymore. 

God has been teaching me, that it is also possible for Him to bring healing to the wounds on my heart that have created large scars too.  Those scars also have stories, only most of those stories I don’t look back on and laugh.  Some of those scars still make me cry, some of those scars make me grateful for the positive outcome on the other side of the wound, some of those scars changed me forever.  Some of them from many years ago are well healed, others still bring a little bit of pain when I look at them.  But He is showing me that He can heal even the deepest wounds. 

Recently, we were able to spend the afternoon with some very precious friends from Indiana.  Those few hours together brought a massive flood of emotions to my heart.  There was a time when we were a part of a small group of 4 couples, and we were inseparable.  We did almost everything together, our kids did everything together, our lives were completely intertwined in 1,000 ways. 

However, life circumstances changed our situations and now time together is very rare.  Some of those relationships are still VERY close emotionally, and we still talk very frequently- but it is via text or phone or social media, not face to face 100 times a week like it used to be.  The days of spontaneous Mexican food or trips to the park no longer exist.  The days of watching our kids play together are rare gems, and the absence of what we once had has left a MASSIVE void in my heart.  That afternoon we spent together laughing like old times, catching up on what is going on in our lives, talking candidly, and watching our kids play together like best friends was SUCH a gift from God.  It was SOOO hard to part ways as the afternoon got late, and as we got in the car I looked at (A) and started crying.  My wound had been ripped open all over again for everything that I so desperately miss, but the precious time together had also been like the most beautiful healing, a reminder of what we still share though it now looks different.

 And it hit me as I wiped my eyes, God was giving me gentle reminders that the scars on my heart will never go away, but He will heal the wounds.  I know our friends bear similar scars from the changes life has brought us in the last two years- and I’m grateful to say some of us earned those scars together.  But I’m also incredibly thankful for God’s reminders that the scars will someday just be a part of the story.  He is healing the wounds that brought them, and His work is not finished yet.  

And more than the scars on my heart, I am beyond thankful for the scars on His hands.  Because those wounds are what brings healing to my life.    

“But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our sins; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by his wounds we are healed." Isaiah 53:5