I was in line at the grocery store the other day when I overheard some ladies talking. What caught my attention was their topic of conversation. They were discussing scars. Actually, they were downing some lady who dared to exit her home without making sure her scars were well concealed. In this day and age of beauty products that exist to hide those unsightly things, I mean really how could she.
I do hope you get my SARCASM...I was livid. it just hit me wrong.
I wonder if these ladies can even begin to fathom the story behind this lady's scars. Her struggles. Her pain. Her battles won.
They could, very well, have been talking about me.
I know about scars. I am a virtual road map of zig-zaggady lines that form a hodge-podge quilt of sorts across my entire body. Having had 20+ surgeries over my lifetime thus far, (not to mention all the tests and procedures) well there is not an inch of me where a story is not imbedded. A story of victory. A story of survival. A story of God's grace and healing.
Those of you who sit back with your perfectly manicured nails, sculpted bodies (that, by the way, have never had the likes of a knife slicing through it) and not a hair out of place - shame on you.
Shame on you for being critical of her. Do you know her struggle? Scars are proof of battles hard fought. Of strength and survival. If you only knew her story, my story. If you only cared enough to get to know the woman behind the scar, I guarantee you she has a story. It's definitely worth hearing too. She is a survivor!
I use to try and hide my scars. I've felt embarrassed. I am still self-conscious at times. I have seen people stare. I've tried so many scar removal remedies; lotions and creams, it's ridiculous. By the way, they are are a rip-off. Yes, I tried them. Cause I bought into the worldly lie of what beauty is supposed to look like. Of what my standard of beauty should be. That my scars are unsightly. I still do at times, if I'm not careful. The desire to be just the right size, a more flattering shape, thicker hair, longer lashes, fewer wrinkles, a clear complextion, straighter nose, flatter belly, smaller ears, just a wee bit taller, the list goes on and on...and on. I guarantee, every lady that is reading this is also doing a mental check-off of her own list of identified imperfections.
We are critical of ourselves and of each other as we base our judgement on what the world tells us is beautiful, lovely, attractive, wonderful. And guess what? we pass it on to our kids as they start obsessing about being thin, cute, accepted...
My anger turns to sadness.
I remember...the Lord's standard. Luke 12:7 says that the very hairs of my head are numbered, that we are not to be afraid as we are worth more than sparrows. I'd say that's pretty important. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." Elohim means Creator. He is our Creator. What He creates is beautiful.
Psalm 139:13-17 says "for You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them!"
We are fearfully and wonderfully made. Are you a bit in awe right now, I am.
I don't say that sister friend, God does. He made me. He knew the path my life would take. He calls me beautifully made. Who am I or who are you to say differently!
We need to remind each other of our beauty. We need to build each other up. Isn't there enough negative messages in the world today?
Scars tell a story.
Jesus has scars. He also has a story of victory. He bore those scars for you and for me. I can't wait to see him one day face to face. To hold the precious hand that bore a nail for me. To see the brow that once bore a crown of thorns replaced with a crown of glory. To look into the eyes of the one who truly knows, who is the definition of unconditional love. To hear the story of His scars straight from his own lips. See I think Jesus loves us in our scars. He knows each one. He was there with us, holding us through each painful piercing cut that formed the scar. Let Him heal your scars. Let Him heal your view of yourself.
We need to re-define our view of ourselves and look in the mirror through the eyes of Jesus.
I'm going to wear my scars proud...