I have a scar. It’s like my own permanent road map marking the shortest distance between one eyebrow and the other. My scar is evidence that I was wounded in the accident that changed my life forever. I should probably have plastic surgery to get it fixed once and for all. But when you’ve lived in and out of the hospital for months, had multiple orthopedic surgeries, the mother of a child diagnosed on the Autism Spectrum the last thing on your priority list is elective cosmetic surgery. So my scar remains.
Scars are evidence of wounds.
Though my left side was completely crushed, the scars no one saw were on my heart and in my soul. If you’re like me and been open about addiction and recovery to other women over the past few years, you may be living with internal scars as well.
Maybe it was something a father said or didn’t say.
A betrayal by a friend.
A promise a spouse didn’t keep.
A dream shattered with being molested as a child
Whether it happened yesterday or fifteen years ago, it still stings. You’d rather not revisit the source of that hurt, yet it left a mark on you that’s impossible to erase. It resurfaces when you least expect it and flares up even though you try to suppress it, reminding you that you are no longer whole.
You were wounded.
Scars are reminders of the wounds we’ve endured. They trigger memories of the traumatic experiences we’d rather forget. We think scars are ugly. That’s why we’re driven to alter them, minimize them, or hide them. But even with all the Mederma cream in the world, they never completely fade.
The good news is that God longs to transform the scars on your wounded heart into marks of beauty. He can use them to bless the world. Beauty marks are wounds that have been transformed into purpose. They remind you that God is redeeming what you’ve suffered and can heal you from the inside out. Maybe your heart feels as if it’s bleeding right now, and healing seems impossible. Trust that the God who created you and loves you is able to heal every broken place.