Scarred for Life

“… by His wounding you have been healed.”  1 Peter 2:24

Forty-eight years of living can do a lot of damage to a body.  Just the normal wear and tear of life.  Bicycle accidents on gravel roads.  Missteps made with bare feet.  Sun damage from lack of proper precaution (and common sense.)  Surgery that brought healing.  Stretch marks from bringing new life into the world.  Even multiplying laugh lines give evidence to the years that have passed and remind me of my history every time I look in a mirror.  Some scars bring a smile.  This one is from the time Chuck and I were wrestling, and I caught his braces with my thumb.  And here on my face is the place I wouldn’t stop picking when I had chicken pox—even though my mother said it would leave a scar.  (You were right, Mom.)  Others bring back tougher memories of pain and suffering, but all tell a part of my story and combine to make me who I am today.  Good and bad, they stay with me as testimonials that I have lived.

However, we often don’t look so affectionately at our little imperfections.  Spas and beauty treatments abound on every corner and in nearly every little strip mall.  Veneers to cover our chipped teeth.  Peels to restore our faces to their youthful appearances.  Even surgery to lift and tuck what has fallen.  We’ll go to extreme lengths to get rid of the scars that living has left.  Makeover whatever we can to erase the marks of time.  No, I’m not criticizing our obsession with perfection—well, not really.  I’m as guilty as anyone of desiring to stay youthful and as attractive as possible for as long as possible.  But, when I see Hollywood faces that can no longer move with expression, I think there are some scars worth hanging on to if only for the purpose of remembering the lessons they taught.  Times of stretching.  Times of submission.  Times of pain and growth.  And times of suffering.  Scars tell the truth and bear witness that can’t be ignored.  And some scars bring life. 

After the terrible pain and suffering of the crucifixion, Jesus also was left with scars.  I’ve often considered that He didn’t have to keep those dreadful marks on His body.  He is God, after all, and has the power to heal whatever He will.  It must have been His choice to keep them.  In fact, it was His scars that helped those who loved Him to recognize Him after the resurrection.  “Then Jesus came, stood among them, and said to them, ‘Peace to you!’  Having said this, He showed them His hands and His side.  So the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord” (John 20 19-20). 

Despite the negative thoughts that may accompany scars—memories of pain or regrets over mistakes—the very fact that scars exist at all is evidence of restoration and growth.  Proof that we have a Creator who has given us bodies that can mend and hearts that can heal.  A Creator who loves us so much that He bears the scars of our sin to this very day so that we can see Him as He is and recognize Him as our Savior.  Scarred for eternal life.  To live it, to share it, to give it. 

“‘Put your finger here and observe My hands.  Reach out your hand and put it into My side.  Don’t be an unbeliever, but a believer.’  Thomas responded to Him, ‘My Lord and my God!’”  (John 20:27-28). 

How will you respond to Jesus?

 

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