Scars

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits: who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with loving kindness and tender mercies.” Psalm 103:2-4

Scars. Most of us have them. Physical ones. Emotional ones. Some minor. Some painfully deep. They all serve as reminders of our past wounds and can hold the ability to stir up powerful emotions; pride, courage, bitterness, anger, regret, sadness, etc…

I have many external scars, from the chicken pox one on my forehead to the surgery scar on the top of my left wrist and so many more from scrapes and falls. I also have many internal scars from things like my childhood, my time in Afghanistan, betrayals, painful memories and so on.

Then some scars are intertwined with both internal and external. Today I am going to share with you one of my deepest and darkest scars that happens to fit that category. This is hard for me to share and I fear that those who know me will look at me differently now in a bad way and those of you who do not know me will judge me. I never planned on sharing this, but God kept pushing it at me and tugging at my heart telling me it needs to happen. I honestly tried to rationalize every excuse not to go through with this post but in the end by not doing it would be defiantly disobeying God. So please don’t judge me by what I am going to share.

I have had some rough brakes in life and after a few big ones happened I was left feeling cursed. I felt alone, and it wasn't that God wasn't there for me, but I was pushing Him away. I was mad at Him, I felt like there was so much pain in my body I would just explode. I had heard about cutting as a way to relieve the pain inside and in a desperate act of self pity I picked up a razor blade and sliced at my wrists. It was not an act for attention, it was not an act of suicide, and for me it wasn't an act of wanting to feel pain, it was a mental trick of letting the pain out. They were not serious cuts nor deep, but just enough for the visual image to help my mind. Or at least I thought it would help my mind.

After doing it once, it became a bit of a habit. Not all the time, but whenever I felt overwhelmed with the enormous amounts of pain and fear I had inside me because even though I was a Christian, I was not going to God. For a few reasons, firstly I was being stubborn, but also I was mad at Him sometimes and I felt I deserved to feel the pain and was blaming myself for all the bad things that were happening to me even knowing they were not my fault.

So in these moments of intense fear, pain and anxiety I would turn to this self destructive act instead of my loving Heavenly Father. I did it several times and each time I would feel ashamed after. I would feel so guilty and hate myself even more and then feel like I deserved the pain more so then.

I would hide my wrists with braces and long sleeves until they healed and I put cream on them to lessen the marks. But I still have them, they are not as pronounced but they are there. When I look at my wrists I am reminded of the time when I turned my back on my faith and God. A time full of destructive behavior that left me deeply wounded and filled with remorse. It is painful yet good that I remember them this way so that I never repeat it of course.

But God has shown me how my scars can actually be a blessing as well. Instead of looking at them and allowing myself to drown in feelings of shame, I can look at my scars and remember how far God has brought me. That is what this post is about, not the act of doing it, but where I am now.

After one incident I confessed to a friend for help and they encouraged me to write the reasons why I do it and the reasons why I shouldn't  As I started writing, I decided to write a letter to myself instead. I printed several copies and I signed them and I keep them in different places so I can always pull it out and read it if I am struggling and turn to God for help.

I have attached the letter in these pictures, if you click them it will be big enough to read. If you read it, it will not only help this post make more sense, but it also might help you in some way, maybe not with the same struggle but something else you might do or you would be able to help someone else with a struggle. So please read it, because that letter was the key to me finally turning back to God instead of the blade. He worked through my friend to bring me back.

Now, I still struggle with the urge to cut during extremely stressful times and I think I always will. When an alcoholic stops drinking or a smoker stops smoking, or any other kind of habit /addiction, they are still tempted and the same goes for me. Except now I lean on God and I have not cut in over a year, that includes losing my hearing and going through radiation alone and separated from my family. I have had several opportunities to go down that path again and there were times I had the urge but with the help of God I have overcome that part of my life.

Do you have scars? How do those scars impact your life? If you have never let them stir you to thankfulness, maybe ask God to help you look at them in a new light. Allow Him to show you how they can actually be a blessing, how they can be reminders of His mercy, His love, His healing, His deliverance.

With Good Friday tomorrow, the day we remember the sacrifice Jesus made for us let us also remember that we were not the first to bear scars, that Christ bears His own scars for all to see. The holes in His hands represent the horrendous pain and suffering that WE put Him though by our sins. Those scars can easily be looked upon as reminders of how sinful and evil, yes evil, we really are and how much we deserve eternal condemnation. On the other hand, just as my scars can be a blessing, the scars on Christ’s hands are a true blessing. They not only represent our sinfulness, but they represent God’s love towards us just the same. Isaiah 53:5 states “But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed.”

Lord, thank You thank You thank You for delivering me from my habit of cutting and bring me back to You so that I may rejoice in where I am and give You the glory in my life. I could not and would not have done it without You and I pray that when I look at my scars I never forget the blessing that can be found in them and not the shame. Thank You for my scars. But more than that, I want to thank You thank You thank You for the scars You bear as well. Your amazing and unfathomable love for me and everyone in this world was shown when You accepted the pain I inflicted so that You could grant me mercy and grace so that I may live. I am in awe just thinking about it and I am forever humbled and honored to serve You and praise Your name. Thank you Jesus. Amen.

This song is a powerful song about letting go of the control that holds on to you. It is not just about cutting and can be used for anything. I also want to point out three lines of the song which hit me hard.

 “There were scars before my scars,

Love written on the hands that hung the stars,

Hope living in the blood that was spilled for me.”