I think if the recollection of emotional/mental scars and wounds were removed and swept away that I might not appreciate the beauty that grew within me in the midst of the struggle.
In the midst of the pain I would undoubtedly have said, “Take it away.”
But when I meditate on it – outside of it – and look back, look way, way back I would say, “Leave it and let’s walk with God through it and see what God can do despite it.”
I would feel cheated of my yesterdays if you removed all the scars from my past. It is the good AND the bad in my life that has made me who I am. Actually it is the beauty that sprung from ashes that has enabled and equipped me for today and allows me to display/testify of the wonder of who He is.
Jesus didn’t have anything less than perfection to offer but He made a choice to love us in spite of what it would cost Him. He wasn’t just here because He was in charge and His Father was going to make it easy. Nothing about it was easy. Yet even when He chose to die He chose to die for everybody. So that everyone, sinner or saint, would have a chance to know healing, peace… life.
He didn’t just die for those who stayed morally on track, or had perfect Church attendance or read their Bible daily but in the midst of our worst day He chose us over the wound anyway and every time.
He kept the scars. That’s what identifies Him as who He is and defines who we are. We won’t need a birth certificate or marriage license to identify us when we finally get home… Our names are etched in those nail scarred hands.
This is grace revealed as light into the darkness around us, wounded we don’t rise without love.
This is how we are healed. Accepting He is greater than our sin, we turn and proclaim to our world that there is beauty to be found, through Christ, in each scar.
Something to think about… if I show up to heaven without any scars it may be because I didn’t give the devil much of a fight.