I had Mohs surgery 6 weeks ago to remove basal cell cancer from my left temple which resulted in a 2 inch scar left by 15 stitches. It’s not that I don’t like the new look. It’s going to be fun for Halloween – I can do Bride of Frankenstein without makeup! I’m more concerned with what others think when they see me, especially kids. I don’t want to scare anyone. Thankfully I have received much advice and samples of topical lotions to help it heal. I started using these lotions but then thought I should try it on my other scars. Truth be told, my arms and legs are covered with scars from old stitches and circular scars from skin cancer biopsies. I don’t think there is going to be enough lotion in my local pharmacy to help me.
Maybe I’ll hang onto these scars. They tell my story. They have become part of me. Honestly, I am more concerned about the hidden scars. You know the ones I mean. We all have them. The hurts that have scabbed over leaving big ugly marks. Scars that try to sink down out of sight. Scars that can still cause pain and yet they also have a purpose. Every time I am faced with fears, insecurities and trials that I don’t think I have the strength for, those same scars resurface and say, “You got this. You’ve been here before and beat this fear/doubt/pain/loneliness before and you can do it again.” It’s like Winnie the Pooh says that we are stronger than we think we are.
Without my scars to remind me, would I be able to stand up to my trials? Another doctor’s appointment, another painful day missing those who left my life before I was ready to let them go. My heart splits into a million pieces as I mourn those not here to hug and laugh with. I have noticed that a strange thing happens with scars. Though they may look ugly, they have become old friends. Poignant reminders of the beauty of our lives that was enjoyed but then somehow lost.
…to bestow in them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
Isaiah 61:3
It’s hard to imagine beauty restored but it is. Because in my Father’s eyes, it was never really lost. I am the apple of His eye and His beloved. And when this time is done, it won’t matter how deep the scars. It won’t even matter how many scars were self-inflicted. It will only matter that I am His child and beloved of the God Most High.
I will keep my scars and the stories they tell. Don’t get me wrong- I will try all the lotions and ointments too! Maybe there can be some extra physical healing. But I will remember that these scars we so vainly worry about are only visible while we living in between heaven and earth. I don’t think Jesus will even notice when he picks me up at His doorstep and says “I am making everything new!”
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