Seventeen and nothing could stop me. I’m pretty sure I hit life in the mouth a few times and came running back to see what the result would be. I made it out alive, with all digits, limbs, and extremities. Invincible would be an adjective that would sum up my thoughts about this life to a tee. This way of thinking has got me sinking now that I realize how fast life is racing with every blinking of the eye.
Twenty years from my sophomore year in high school has me thinking about the cumulative scars that make up the mental and physical effects of this crazy life. Toby Mac describes it well. You, you’re not alone. We’ve all been there. Scars come with livin. It doesn’t matter who you are. This world gon leave some battle scars.
As a senior in high school, training for football season was the business that required staying away late and eventual divorce from your significant other. We watched film, worked out with weights, learned a new offense, watched more film, practiced and ran stadiums. Enough time spent at school would cause the faintest relationship to fail. Upon graduation I had a friend tell me how he was fraternizing with all the football player’s girls while they were at practice. In the process of those stadiums, I acquired a massive scar from slipping on the concrete bleachers at New Brockton High School. This caused a gashing wound that if it would have been placed anywhere else on the body would have required stitches. To this day there is a penny sized indention in my shin from the impact.
Later in life my face would take a direct impact into the gravel road beneath me while riding four wheelers with my best friend. The collision would cause a handful of stitches and a few crowns in the middle of my “grill” as they say. Maybe my conscious allows me to notice, but my forehead tells a story of horror along with the discolored replaced front tooth.
As I approach senior citizen status, body parts start to fall apart. My shoulder wasn’t an exception. A few years back the doctors shaved some bone off of the sternoclavicular joint because of the lack of tissue was causing extreme pain. In the process three small incisions have left me with more scars and a story to go along with it. Man the med’s they give you cause you to say the darndest things.
All of the aforementioned required physical harm or pain and left a visual mark on this aging body. However, the scars that take the longest to heal often are not always visible. That heart break of the sweet thang that you thought would never leave your side. That family member who blatantly spread some of the darkest secrets about your life to those that were not directly involved. The pastor who broke trust with privacy issue between you and another member of the congregation. The death of a friend or family member always leaves an unfillable ditch in the human chest of those involved.
No one is immune to the scars of this life. They all hurt with fierce torment that can only be cured with the Love of Christ. The love of Christ teaches us that Faith is required for us to free ourselves from the discomforts of this world. Also, that the Lord is the only constant that we can trust. All others will betray us.
Today allow the physical and emotional scars to be a testimony from which the Lord has delivered us. It’s hard to think about how far we’ve truly come on this journey. But if we take time to reason, our experiences have brought us further along than we would have ever imagined.