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Wounds. The word conjures up all kinds of images in my mind of gaping sores and oozing gashes. Ugh! Not something I like to think about. However, sometimes the ugliest wounds, the ones that leave us gasping for air, are the ones that aren’t visible to anyone else–they’re the hurts that bruise our hearts and minds. For me, my wounds were slightly self-inflicted when I began to believe that God had abandoned me, and the loss of innocence that I felt when I was forced to confront the brokenness of a world outside of my privileged upbringing.
A band called Point of Grace sings a song called “Heal the Wound.” The chorus repeats these lines….
Heal the wound but leave a scar,
a reminder of how merciful you are…
What a powerful sentiment, indeed. We have to get healing for our wounds, or we’re likely to wound others. But the scars? That’s another story. I have scars from all sorts of experiences in my life. Bike accidents (that’s a tale for another day–suffice it to say, if you ever need a laugh just come watch me ride a bike), chicken pox, and child birth. Obviously, I look more fondly upon the scars that brought me my children than the ones from a clumsy attempt to ride a bike down a large hill with bramble bushes at the bottom. But each scar tells a story, and usually the result of the story is worth remembering.
For my 30th birthday, as a present to myself, I gave myself a visible “scar” to remind me of God’s mercy and goodness in a time when I doubted those things. I got a small tattoo of the hindi word for love on my wrist. Because my scars gave me a glimpse of the depth of God’s love, I never want to forget them, or how God is redeeming and using them to help others.
Do you have a wound that needs to be healed?
What might God be wanting to do with your scars, what story is he telling through you?