My three recent surgeries each left me with new scars. These scars serve to remind me of the fragility of life. The scars attest to the amazing resilience of the human body. And, by God’s grace, these scars remain as the indelible markings of a survivor.
But these marks did not start out as scars. They began as wounds; places where something had been cut away. Tears in the protective layers of my body which left me a good bit more vulnerable and fragile than I was before.
The body fixes these tears with scar tissue, which is not as strong or resilient or flexible as the tissue it replaces. In fact, that same scar tissue can become its own source of pain if allowed to build up. So, my surgeon had me use compression, heat and massage to break up the scar tissue. Faithfully administering these three, over time, brought healing, flexibility and strength to what was once an open wound.
Losing Jeremy created a huge tear in all of the protective layers of me. What was once “two-became-one” was now cut away into something else: something—someone—I didn’t yet recognize. The wounds left me vulnerable, raw and fragile, and secondary scar tissue only added to the agony.
That raw pain, heated by authenticity, compressed by truth and massaged with hope, slowly lends itself to new strength. And somewhere along the way, those scars became my testimony. My ministry.
Jesus has scars. In His resurrected body, He chose to retain the scars in His hands and His feet. But why? Why was it that one of the first things He did after defeating death was show the disciples His scars? Maybe it was to prove to Thomas that He was the resurrected Christ; but perhaps it was to remind them all—to remind us—that our ultimate healing is only possible because of His sacrifice. Perhaps.
The thing about scars is that they will almost always remain tender, to some degree. And that’s okay. Because the scars serve to remind me of the fragility of love and life. The scars attest to the amazing resilience of the human heart. And, most importantly, these scars remain as the indelible markings of God’s grace in my life.
Amazing grace, which turns hideous scars into the beautiful tattoos of a survivor. Someday, this survivor will receive ultimate healing because my name has been scarred onto the hands of the One who was wounded for me…
And the only scars in Heaven will be His.