Scars are Good

Recently my 6 year-old daughter and I were discussing some of the recent Kindergarten playground news.  Turns out one of the young boys in her class was trying to convince her that only boys get scars.  Well, if you know my fierce princess-warrior Rylee, you know she was having none of this little boys nonsense.  “Girls get scars too! And scars are good – they remind you of your boo-boos” she protested to me.

“Scars are good?” I thought for a brief moment. Then I said, “Rylee, you’re right.  Girls get scars and scars are good.”  As I’ve pondered her proclamation that scars were good, I’ve come up with three reasons why I agree with her.

1.) Scars remind us of where we’ve been.

I’ve got scar tissue on the inside of my lip and under my beard that remind me of a couple of ferocious Friday night football hits.  I’ve got a scar on my elbow that reminds me of a High School mission trip. I’ve got some hidden scars of relationships that have been lost.  I contend that these are good scars.  Even though receiving them was painful they remind me of blessings that once were.  I’ve learned that I can be thankful for those seasons of my life that are no more.  The care free days of high school football are no more, but they were fun.  There are some relationships and places in my life that I hold dear, even though they are not what the once were.  There were people who enriched my life and made me more like Jesus.  These scars remind me to be thankful for what once was and how it or they shaped me.

2.) Scars remind us of lessons learned.

As the oldest of 5 kids I was often mimicked by my younger siblings.  When I was young I didn’t give much thought to this until one summer afternoon.  I was outside at my grandparent’s house climbing walls and doing crazy stunts that 10 year-olds do.  There was one problem: I had a 6 year-old brother following me and copying my every move.  Next thing you know he fell off a wall and busted the back of his head open on tractor equipment.  I thought I had killed him.  I literally watched out the front door of our house until my dad brought him home from the hospital.  Today, my younger brother still has a scar on the back of his head.  That scar reminds me that people are watching me.  That I (we) have influence in the lives of other people.  What I say and do matters, because someone is watching and likely will be mimicking what they see.

3.) Scars remind us that we have been forgiven.

Like the pessimistic disciple Thomas I doubt, question and lose faith.  Life has a way of reminding you of who you really are.  Today’s failure and sin reminds me of yesterday’s failure and sin.   But then Jesus says to me, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side.”  When I see the nail scared hands of my Savior I remember, I’m forgiven.  His scars leave me spotless and without wrinkle.  His scars make me clean and holy.  His scars prove I’m loved.  His scars are so good to me.

As Rylee says, Scars are good.

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