My scars tell the story of who I am. Over my body, I have a physical chart of memories from my past.
There’s a scar dangerously close to my eye which I got when I was about nine. As a sensitive kid, I often felt overlooked by my peers. I was usually the last chosen for sporting teams, due to both my coordination and my unpopularity.
That day our class was coming back from sporting activities. Spurned and distraught, I cried so hysterically that I couldn’t see where I was going. I led myself away from the group and right into a tree. The branch stuck right into my brow with a scar that I still have to this day.
I carried that scar with me in my heart since then. Although it was too embarrassing to admit for many years, the rejection from that time etched deep. I’ve always tried to be optimistic but the spirit of rejection is hard to break free from.
The scars I have all over my knees from frequently falling as a child marked me as a klutz. Most physical things I tried were an instant failure, but I learned to pick myself up and try again. I still trip over my own feet on occasion but now it’s a source of amusement rather than failure.
Scars since then
There’s a ‘Harry Potter’ scar on my bellybutton. The lightning bolt from my keyhole surgery sometimes twinges but it tells me that I’m a survivor. I could have died at 18 when doctors dismissed my abdominal pain and my appendix ended up bursting on the operating table. My mum and her tenacity saved me that day when she wouldn’t give up until she found a doctor who believed me.
My most recent major scar tissue spread over both my ankles from the car accident in China. Scraped up, I was rushed into the Emergency ward. The nurses covered my deep cuts with a weird red solution instead of stitching them up. The gashes swelled up to become upraised scar tissue.
It hasn’t mattered to me how ugly it looks. It’s a testimony to God’s protection over me and my daughter.
The scars that nobody can see
There are scars on my soul and each one is a tether to the hope that one day all will be healed. Every damaged relationship will be set right, and those who don’t know what they’ve done to hurt me in this life will one day know when all is bared.
I don’t hate my scars. On the contrary. Some might represent how I would have done life differently if given hindsight and a second chance. All of them represent grace and mercy given to me before I even asked for it.
We are to embrace the journey and all the scars that go along with it, as our mark from this world that we have lived and survived to come through the other side.
Bridget Brenton is involved in Aboriginal and Islander based ministries, and enjoys tech stuff like making websites and making games (www.christianvisualnovel.com) in her spare time.
Bridget Brenton’s previous articles may be viewed at: http://www.pressserviceinternational.org/bridget-brenton