A lot of us live with scars. Some of the scars are obvious, outward scars. Some are a little more hidden, and some of us carry scars that no one else knows about.
This year I have done a lot of speaking with my family during our one year ministry assignment. It is a time where we visit supporting churches or individuals, check in with them and let them know what is happening with the work in Ecuador. Because I knew I would be in churches, I felt it very important to talk about my obvious scar on my face. Not because I felt I had to explain the scar, but because I felt if I had a platform, then I needed to use that platform to speak truth, healing and honestly, the power of God that I have witnessed in my life. It isn’t because I am special or chosen or really anything. It is just simply that God healed me and being witness to that, I feel like other people need to know it.
The parallel to that is that I am also carrying my own hidden scars of these past couple of years. Deep grief and hurt that I have carried as part of this hard time of ministry. I have been honest, maybe not in specifics with every person I meet, by I have been honest that ministry has been hard. I don’t think that is a form of weakness, but I think it is true form of honesty that people need to hear. It’s hard to share both of these truths, but I think there is something about being vulnerable in what we share that allows people space to not only share their own stories and their own scars, but it also allows them to see that God is big enough to carry them. There is something healing about sharing stories and sharing scars because we all have them, we all carry them. When we share those scars, others feel a place where they can share them too. Sometimes that is hard, sometimes its healing, sometimes it leads to miracles, sometimes it leads to brokenness of relationships for healing to happen.
So, April 1st is the one-year anniversary of my cancer surgery. I have somehow earned more scars this last year with other possible cancer on the skin. Praise the Lord it has not been. But in the last year I have learned that I am not ashamed to carry my scars. My scars tell a story, my story. It is one of healing and miracles and I think we need more stories told of how God heals! It isn’t something that happened centuries ago, it still happens and there is power in calling on the “Lord of Hosts”, Jehovah Sabaoth to fight our battles for us when we can’t fight for ourselves. There is healing in telling people they too can call on this same Lord. He isn’t a distant, far-away God. He is a close, present God that catches our tears and sits with us and mourns with us.
So, I carry and live with my scars because my story is important to share and yours are too!