Throwback Thursday #1 - May 2019
{Written Friday, May 25, 2012}
It was around 8am on a Thursday morning, and I sat in the hospital ER waiting to be called for a routine appointment.
My heart was heavy this particular morning. Reminders were all around me. Painful snapshots of the most recent chapters of my story flashed in my mind. In my purse I had a neatly folded blog post to read, but I knew I would not be able to absorb it. It stayed neatly folded. I wanted to be alone with my quiet thoughts... and see if God might have a whisper for my heart.
In that moment, even prayer felt too hard. I hate to admit that. But, you know those times, when your mind is like a hollow echo and you don't even know how to start. I forgot and then remembered that prayer is a conversation... and this also means listening. So I listened for the voice of Him who is Everything.
I watched as an attractive woman walked toward me. I noticed her sleeveless dress. She seemed to wear it with quiet confidence. As she turned a corner, it caught my attention and shocked me. A scar swept broadly and boldly down her right arm. It was wide and extended almost the full length from her shoulder to her elbow. It announced a personal story.
I asked myself... Would I wear that dress if I had that scar?
The truth stung. I would not. I would try it on... admiring the fit in the mirror. I would turn to the right... and smile. I would turn to the left... and remember. Then, I would take it off and hang it back up... too embarrassed by my scar. So embarrassed... it would probably keep me from at least some of the truly free and abundant life. {John 10:10 - The thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.}
And the dress would waste away, meaningless, in a cold dark closet rather than adding beauty and dimension to a body that could warm it and give it life.
"My scars tell a greater story than my pain... they tell of utter dependence on God and His unfailing mercy..."
My thoughts drifted back to the beautiful woman. Her scar was part of her... but it didn't define her or keep her shackled to sleeves. The fact that she was unashamed to let others see her scar only enhanced her beauty.
Then I heard the whisper of God to my heart, it was the voice of Him who is Everything... "And, what about your scars?"
It opened a dialogue of me-honesty. Am I ashamed of my scars? Are they in places that embarrass me? Do I let them define me... or truer yet... devalue me? Would others see brave and mercy... where I see wounded and scarred? Would others smell the fragrance of hope... because they discovered I trudged through the stench of hurt and hopelessness to my Healer?
My Daddy tenderly binds up my wounds {Psalm 147:3}... some new... some old. At times He may call me to courage and ask me to let others see my scars.
My heart is set on unashamed and trusting Him to make it beautiful. I know my scars tell a story greater than my pain... they tell of utter dependence on God and His unfailing mercy which never lets go... {and they whisper even more, still a mystery}.
Do I let my scars shackle me from truly living... abundant and free? What do I make of my scars...remembrance of shame... or testimony to grace?
I get to define my scars. My scars don't get to define me.
Scars and all, I step into abundant and free and the testimony to grace sings His pleasure.