Written in the Scars

Day 1:

I trust the Ever-Living One, His wounds for me shall plead

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands..." (Isaiah 49:16).

The cutlass (machete) was rooted in the firm earth outside our kitchen door. Our next-door neighbor had stuck it there “for a moment” as he stood chitchatting with my aunt. I marveled at the perfectly balanced blade, and wondered if, I too, could plunge it, perfectly upright, into the ground.

Grabbing hold of the handle, I tugged it from the dirt, and plunged with all my might, straight into…my foot. The two adults sprang into action as soon as they heard my terrified howls. I had punctured a blood vessel and watched in panic as rivers of blood gushed from my foot. Curiosity did not kill me that day—although I thought it might kill my poor, frazzled aunt—and nothing remains of the incident but a scar—with a memory.

Scars are like that, aren’t they? Some, like the one on my foot tell the simple story of a mishap, blown over and scattered into a billion bits of insignificance. Others tell more riveting tales of struggle, and survival, and victory, and loss. And still others are gatekeepers to the deepest corners of the mind and soul, standing sentinel over the wounds of the past and the present, guarding secrets, hiding hurts, plastering pain.

Yet the very definition of scar includes a shift towards healing. Perhaps not perfect, perhaps not complete, perhaps not processed, perhaps not permanent. But a pathway forward for here and now. Surgery scars may point to survival and hope, childbearing scars to celebration of family.

But even where wounds are too painful, and trauma too deep for complete healing, hope is not lost. For there is One, Jesus, with scars that tell the story of love, and sacrifice and healing and reconciliation.

Jesus’ express purpose in coming to live among us was to bear the burden of our “iniquity”—our state of separation from God. Every person is born into this state of iniquity since the first man disobeyed God. Since then all the wounds and scars in our human experience are the result of our existence in a disquieting and traumatic "fallenness" from the peace God intended.

We are told about Jesus that “He took up our pain and bore our suffering…He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by His wounds we are healed.” The passage continues, “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:4-6).

After Jesus was crucified on a Roman cross, He rose from the dead as Scripture had promised, leaving our iniquity buried forever. When the resurrected Jesus visited his disciples in group for the first time, one of them, Thomas was not there. So Thomas did not believe. Until the scars told the story:

“Now Thomas (also known as Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.”

A week later His disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into My side. Stop doubting and believe.” Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!” Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed”” (John 20:24-29).

A living, loving Savior has the scars to show that by His wounds we are healed. He came to "comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair" (Isaiah 61:2-3).

The journey to healing begins in Him. The story of our scars has been overwritten. The ultimate story of love is written in His scars.

I need no other argument,

I need no other plea;

It is enough that Jesus died,

And that He died for me.

~My Faith Has Found a Resting Place Eliza E. Hewitt, pub.1891