Scars
There it is,
scrawled on the inside of the cover. Even when the book is not open, I can see
the words in my mind. “Let the scars
show, “ he said. Those words have reverberated
through my mind for the last eight years.
We had the privilege of meeting and getting to know Steve Saint just a
little bit over the next couple of years.
We shared stories, the kind no one ever wants to share of children
buried long before their parents. We
connected at the heart level over loss – over scars.
Though the
words have run through my mind a thousand times as I have said “yes” to speak
here or there, or “yes” to talk to so and so, or “yes” to send a message to yet
another parent who has faced loss, or “yes” in my own head to write another blog
post about what God is teaching me, there is always some fear and
trembling. The scars are scars for a
reason, you see. They represent pain
inflicted and sometimes they are still oh so tender. I also look at the scars and wonder at times,
“What is the point?” “What do I know?” Yes, I have scars, but that does not make me
an expert on their source.
I recently
battled those thoughts as I held my finger in the air over the buttons. Delete or post? What would I do with what I had poured out
onto the screen? How is this helpful to
anyone at all? Do I really want to
display the scars yet again?
Fear and
trepidation ensue. I very nearly delete. Then I remember the words scrawled in the
book and I post.
I wrestled
through that morning, the morning of the day that we celebrate the birth of our
son who is never there to celebrate with us.
I wrestle over whether or not I should have posted. I know it’s silly. I know I over think, but it is reality for
me. I grappled until I received a
message that hit me upside the head.
Sometimes I am so very slow and God is graciously patient with me. The
message was from a friend saying she had shared my morning’s blog post with a
hurting friend. The pain the friend was experiencing
transformed into peace and hope upon reading it.
Why? I can guarantee it was not because of any
profound thing that I had to say! I was
reminded that morning, as I read those sweet words, it isn’t about me. The scars I bear aren’t about me. Every time I sit back down to the computer
and pour my heart out in the form of words on the screen, or each time I stand
up again to speak, or I pick up a pen and write a note, or I step through the
door into the world of a hurting friend or stranger and bear my scars I am
pointing to something far greater, deeper, and more profound than my
scars or the words I share about them.
There is no
hope in the scars I bear. There is no hope in my words.
None.
I am
pointing people to His scars and that is why this friend's pain turned to peace and hope. The very
reason I can wake up each morning and bear my scars with true joy and certain
hope is because of the scars He bears – Jesus Christ. He showed his scars too. John tells us all about it. The disciples were afraid, hiding, doors
locked. Then there He was in the midst
of them! Standing in the flesh He showed
the scars of his hands, feet, and side. (John 20:20) One was missing and doubted, so again He
appeared and demonstrated the scars. (John 20:27) He displayed them with confidence knowing
they represented the hope of the world.
They represent our hope.
How can scars represent hope? Because Isaiah 53:5 tells us that it is by
the wounds that caused those scars that we are healed – healed from our sin,
given hope, promised eternal life through belief in Him. Hallelujah!
Steve was
right all those years ago. I must let
the scars show. I let them show not so
anyone will think I am anything great.
Not so anyone will think I have some incredible strength or profound
wisdom to share. None of those things are true. To be honest, I NEVER
want my scars to point to me at all. I
bear them daily, I show them with confidence because they point to the One who
rose triumphantly from the grave and shows His scars to say to us there is
HOPE.
“But He was
pierced because of our transgressions, crushed because of our iniquities; punishment for our peace was on Him, and we are healed by His wounds.” Isaiah
53:5
He was
beaten and died. He can show the scars
and offer hope because He rose again!
Happy Easter
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