Scars. We all have them—some of us more than others. They come in many shapes and sizes, and most of us love telling the stories of how we received them. Sometimes we have a certain scar for so long that it becomes a part of us. If it were gone, we’d actually miss it.
I have one of those. I got it when I was young—maybe 3 years old. It’s about an inch from the corner of my right eye, and most days I forget it’s even there. But sometimes, when the light hits it right, the familiar little circle catches my eye, and I smile.
I don’t know why it makes me smile. It doesn’t even really have a good story behind it-it’s just a reminder of when I had chicken pox. But it’s been there so long that it’s become a part of me. I expect it to be there.
So it is with scars. We incur many over a lifetime, and most of those will fade away. But there are always a few that stay. I’m not just talking about physical scars, either. There are places other than the body that can be wounded.
Now I am only 21 years old and consider myself blessed that I have not incurred too many scars in that time. But I have a few. Although I certainly have no wish to relive the wounds that caused my scars, I don’t regret that they are there. Scars are reminders. Yes, they do often bring painful memories to mind. But they don’t always have to.
When a cut on your body begins to heal, the area is at first red and tender, easily prone to pain. However, as time progresses, that area becomes less of a wound and more of a scar. The skin returns to its normal size and color, and the pain decreases. Soon, all that is left is a mark—a reminder of where the wound was. The pain, though, is gone.
Of all the things I have experienced in my life, I can honestly say that I would not go back and change any one of them, not even the ones that left me with scars. Yes, they are reminiscent of painful times. But more than that, they remind me of what I have learned. From every wound I received, I gained a little wisdom. And the scars bring those lessons to mind. They keep me from making the same mistakes.
Take, for example, a burn. When my younger brother was 2, he bumped into a hot grill and badly burned his arm. He went through a lot of pain that day, and for several days after. But eventually, that burn faded into a long white scar. He went through a lot of pain to get that mark. But he never touched a hot grill again. After that initial burn, he knew better.
Another reason I value my scars is because they show healing. When I can look at a painful place and refer to it as a scar instead of a wound, I know that I have begun to heal. When you are wounded, you have the choice to let that sore heal or to keep messing with it. If you keep reliving a painful event in your mind or thinking about “what-ifs,” it is the same as pulling the tops off your scabs. Wounds cannot heal unless they are left alone.
But when you do allow those hurt places to heal, the resulting scars show that. When you touch that once-painful area, you find that it is covered over. And you find yourself thankful. Thankful that the wound healed-it didn’t kill you, it didn’t get infected and have dominance over you. It’s finished.
I don’t know why we have to get wounded. It just doesn’t seem fair sometimes-especially when you never saw it coming. But I believe that, whether it makes sense at the time or not, there is always a reason we go through these painful experiences. The pain will go away one day, and all that will be left is that scar: a reminder that a lesson has been learned and pain has been overcome and a reminder that healing does take place.