When I was a kid, I thought my scars were pretty awesome. A badge of toughness, of adventure, and evidence of my rights of passage.
OK, maybe they just meant I was a clumsy kid. But as horrific as each experience that gave me the scar may have been, I remember being excited about seeing what new disfigurement would form on my knee, elbow, knuckle...the list does go on.
How weird is that?
I guess life as a whole is like that. We go through tough times, awful traumatic experiences that just take us down to the mats and that leave gnarly scars in our hearts, minds and souls. We carry them like badges of honor. Maybe it's because we think its best to remember what we've been through, perhaps we're just proud of the fact that we endured, survived or conquered something tough.
But sometimes I wonder if we just hold on to our brokenness and imperfections as an excuse to shy away from a new challenge. A scar can also be the proof we want that says that I've paid my dues. Surely you cant expect me to do more, take more...I mean, haven't I done enough? That black shadow of difficulty, the new trial that God wants to take me through so that I can grow, live greater, reach higher....well, surely that can't be for me. See my scars?
So my scars become a crutch. Not really my medallion of bravery and honor, but my excuse for cowardice and a second status, less than fulfilling life.
OH to be bold again! Ready for the next thing that will bring a new beautiful ugly scar with it. Without fear and with complete abandonment, trusting my Savior to bless me and challenge me and help me to attain the life that he intended for me. That is my heart's desire.
Show me your ways O Lord, teach me your paths, guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are my God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. Psalm 25: 4-5