Scars...and Stripes...

As I often watch the American flag wave from our deck, I am constantly reminded of the wonderful blessings and freedoms we enjoy each day and the countless sacrifices given for our precious USA. Yet I have been reminded of something else as I see those “stars and stripes” move so fluently in the breeze along the countryside. I have to wonder….how many “scars and stripes” move among us, also???

I am no stranger to scars. I have quite a few of them which remind me of different seasons in my own life. There are the chicken pox scars on my face, hands and legs from seventh grade. There’s the scar on my hand from a bike vs. fence accident. (The fence won. I lost.) There are scars from multiple surgeries…some were not so exciting...yet one surgery saved the life of our daughter at birth. I am certainly not thrilled to have so many scars. But when I think of the gift of life that came about from enduring surgery so our precious Rachel would arrive safely, it is a scar I do not regret for a moment. That scar represents love and life! Thankfully, the majority of my scars are not obvious. But I know they are there…and why.

But there are other types of scars, aren’t there? And those scars go much deeper than surgical ones. It is my guess that all of us walk around with invisible scars from this journey in life. Perhaps there are wounds from a broken family, a broken marriage, a broken dream, or a broken life. Maybe there was abuse, abandonment…or addictions. Sometimes we are simply broken from loneliness, hopelessness, loss and confusion. Maybe we don’t feel like our lives matter much sometimes. Maybe we thought life was going a certain direction and then it all fell apart…leaving us shattered…and lost…and empty. And what about those who they say they really care about us and will never walk away…but they are nowhere near when we need someone the most…leaving us not only heartbroken…but now forgotten?

I believe it is impossible to go through life without wearing one or more scars, including those invisible ones. It’s an imperfect world…with imperfect people…and we all fall down…sometimes. But do scars define our value…our worth…our purpose…forever? Well…I believe that Someone’s scars…and stripes…define us much more than our own wounds…and bruises...and imperfections. Isaiah 53: 5 says “But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed.” (NIV) Knowing that He loved us so much that He endured excruciating pain…horrendous stripes on His back…holes in His hands and feet….humiliation…and death…makes all the difference in my life! If His love went that far for me…then I believe His love…His blood…His sacrifice…and His rising again…are certainly capable of handling all my scars…my wounds…my pain and my purpose.


Honestly, I can’t imagine going through this life without hope, peace, love and joy only He gives. I am very blessed with some incredible family and friends. They have been tremendously supportive for me through lots of life’s struggles. But knowing that He knows my name…my life…my heartaches…my faults…my hidden scars and silent sobs…gives me hope beyond this world and life beyond the present journey. We may have scars…but His stripes…and His sacrifice…covered us with love…and hope.

Do you ever wonder what you will do when you meet Him face to face? Since I have many loved ones in Heaven now…I often wonder what it was like when they saw Him after leaving this life. What did He say to them? What did they say to Him? Did He hug them and welcome them Home? Did they fall to their knees and praise Him in total surrender? It is difficult for me to even imagine the opportunity to be in His presence and see Him in all His glory. I have no doubt I will be totally amazed by His grace, love, mercy and presence. It will probably take me awhile to even speak His precious name. But something I think I would love to ask Him…is if I can touch His hands…His precious, nail-scarred, beautiful, loving hands. It would not be out of doubt that I wish to see them. I would simply hope to respectfully, gratefully and lovingly kiss the precious hands of the One who was wounded for me. If His love for me allowed them to be pierced and scarred…it only seems fitting that I would show my love for Him by kissing those precious hands which bore the nails to change my life forever. I can’t imagine being able to do anything but thank Him...for by His wounds, I will be healed. May I always be grateful for our wonderful America as I see the “stars and stripes” waving each day. May I always be grateful for the One who covered “my scars with His stripes” which now brings hope, peace, love, joy and purpose to my life every day. ♥~thl