Scars

October 17, 2010 at 10:59 pm (Brokenness, Uncategorized)

Jesus restores what’s broken, but He doesn’t overlook our pain.  And I love that about Him.

When Jesus appeared to the disciples after the resurrection, the scars from his wounds were still visible on His hands and His side.  he didn’t make them disappear.  he didn’t make it seem as if the brutality that He had just gone through had never happened.  he could have.  he could have made His scars disappear quicker than Jacob the Werewolf can heal his mutant body.  He can heal anything absolutely and completely.  But instead, He chose to let the scars remain.

I have scars that remain.  I have one on my chin.  I let a boy I had a crush on convince me to ski a black with moguls on my very first day skiing when I was in the 7th grade.  It didn’t end well.

I have scars that people can’t see too.  I have scars from school, where I never felt accepted by the people in my class. Always there, but never visible.

I have scars from the hurtful words I was told by family members that said they loved me.

I have scars from things I’ve looked at, thought, said, or done.

And while I can ask for forgiveness from God, myself, or others, sometimes those scars remain.  they don’t just disappear.

And while so much of Christianity is about God forgiving and choosing not to remember, i still remember.  i still know that what happened, happened.  That’s why I love that when Jesus appeared to His disciples, He still had scars.  he still had nailprints on His wrists.  he still had a wounded side.  He hadn’t forgotten.

But those were no longer about what happened.  Those wounds meant something else.  Those wounds meant that Jesus’ death had restored a relationship between us and God.  Those wounds meant that Jesus understood brokenness, pain, and heartache.

While His scars were still there, they no longer meant that they were the end of the story.  Those wounds were part of the story.  Easter isn’t just about the cross; its about the empty tomb.  Jesus overcame His scars.  And He helps us do the same.

Like Jesus, my wounds no longer have to be my story-they can be part of my story.  I can remember them, but they don’t define me.  They were real and they happened and I’m not going to dismiss them.  but God restores so that they’re not my entire story – they’re just part of my story.

My God is a God who restores and heals, and there’s more to me than my scars.

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