Stains, Marks, and Scars
“But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:5 (ESV)
I recently left a pink sticky note on my nightstand (a family antique) and set a glass on it. I was unaware, but the condensation from the cold glass caused the pink dye from the sticky note to bleed onto the wood. It's just a mark on a piece of furniture that holds little value, other than sentimental.
That deep pink stain reminds me though of the marks left on our bodies as we move through the days and years and events of our lives. We're all well acquainted with them ... the scars from the earliest scrapes on our knees and elbows of childhood to a variety of youthful injuries, and surgeries in our older years. They left their marks. I don't know that I have ever heard anyone refer to a scar as beautiful. We usually respond to them as robbers of our beauty, ruining what once had been attractive.
I have thought about shifting my view of scars. What if we appreciated them for the reminders they are ... of someone surviving a serious illness ... living through battle ... giving birth to a long hoped-for baby ... making it through the terrible pain of a fire or attack. They help to tell our stories and serve as reminders of the events which make up the chapters in our lives.
Although some scars will be the evidence of painful memories, others will help us recall victories won and lessons learned. And what if we also viewed these healing marks as scars of love? That would increase their value and beauty, wouldn't it? Many of them are ... battle wounds ... birth scars ... rushing in and taking a bullet for someone ... having nails driven into his hands and feet, and a spear thrust into his side. All for love. In saying, "Behold my hands and feet," Jesus was saying, "Yes, it is I. I am the one who took the 'bullet' for you ... I won the battle for you. Behold these scars of love." He bears the scars for our healing.
And. They. Are. Beautiful.
© 2023 Connie Caston McMaster All rights reserved
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