Thank God we don't have to hide scars......
This is a line in a song that I love. I heard it today for the hundredth time. Every time I hear this song, it speaks to me a little more and more. I have scars....I have lots of scars. Some are visible and some you will never see.
I have visible scars....
I have scars from self mutilation.
I have scars from the stupid teenage decision to carve my then boyfriend's initials in my ankle....then carve it "off" when we broke up and THEN carve the next guy's initials above it....yep, stupid, I know.
I have invisible scars from bad relationships, hurtful people, bad situations and bad decisions.
The most telling of all my scars though would have to come from the scarring disease I have. I have morphea. It has haunted me for the better part of my whole life. And it's not in a place that can be hidden. It's right in front of people's eyes.....it's on my face. I've had so many comments about it. I've had the "feel sorry for you" comments, the "I don't even notice it" comments, the "what the heck" comments. I've also had the looks....the "feel bad for you", "I'm trying not to stare", "disgusted" looks. Probably the most hurtful comment ever said to me was by a boyfriend who told me "Well, half of your face is pretty." But the best comment I've ever gotten was from my husband who said "It's part of why I fell in love with you." (insert "awwwww" moment).
All of these scars have taught me something in their own way.
My self mutilation scars remind me of a feeling and a state of mind that I never ever want to get to again. I never again want to hate myself that much.
My "initial" scars remind me that I was a very stupid teenager. And that no relationship is worthy of that sort of scar.....or the emotional scars.
All the invisible scars from bad relationships, hurtful people, bad decisions and bad situations remind me of how far I've come. They show me how strong they have made me.
The morphea reminds me everyday that beauty isn't always what's on the outside. It reminds me to be mindful of the comments I make about myself, especially in front of my impressionable daughters. It reminds me that I am not perfect. God didn't mean for me to be perfect. No one is perfect.
All of these scars will be with me for the rest of my life here on earth. But it's a great feeling that one day in heaven I will be made perfect. And who knows, maybe even in heaven I'll still have the scars. Maybe God considers my imperfections, perfect.
