show your scars

When I was in little, my sister and I were having a pillow fight. I was wearing socks on a hardwood floor- I am sure you can imagine how that went. One hit to my legs, and I was down, left with a busted chin and a pink princess band aid. Right after it happened, all I had to do was lift my head up and the nasty, red wound was fully visible. As the years have gone by, even I forget about that tiny scar on the bottom of my chin.

Never once have I looked at that scar and thought to myself, “I still have a busted chin.” I look at that scar and see a healed wound and a story.

“I know the scars only mean I’m healing.”

I heard these lyrics this week, and they tapped into something deep in my heart. Many of you know my story and, if you don’t, we can get coffee sometime. My story left a few scars. For much of my healing journey, I tried to convince myself that those scars didn’t exist. I hid them, ignored them, and tried to forget about them.

In the past seven years, I have done a lot of healing. I have also done a lot of hiding. I was terrified for so long that if I had scars, let alone showed them to anyone, it meant I was still wounded, still broken.

Exactly the opposite is true.

Scars are the body’s way of healing itself, and it is a beautiful, miraculous thing. Scars were the very method by which Jesus showed Thomas who he was, how Jesus showed his resurrection power. Why, then, do we try so hard to hide our scars?

I had a moment a couple of nights ago where one of my scars reared its head in a very unexpected way. I found myself overwhelmed with tears and taken right back to the place where I first felt that wound. In that moment, I began to talk with my husband. We talked about the wound, yes, but we talked even more about what that wound led to- the scars. Sure, we all want to be perfect and untarnished. We don’t want scars. We don’t want to show our scars. For many of us, those scars are reminders of a time when we felt an unbearable pain. Yet, when I talked about my scars, I was overwhelmed with a different emotion: gratefulness. Had it not been for that wound, I would not have met my husband, I would not have the strong support system of women I have in my life now, and I would not be an attorney.

It took seven years to get to this point, where the scars are less red, less jagged. But the scars are there, nonetheless. That is not a bad thing. The scars, even as they fade with time, are a symbol of your story. The scars are a symbol of victory. The scars only mean you are healing.

The Lord has gifted you a unique story, use it to point people to him. Tap into that story when you find yourself hit with a new wound, and let the scars remind you of your resilience and His faithfulness. Show your scars.