Scars - What She Said Part 14 - Week 7 Day 2

TODAY'S TREASURE

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

Transcript

Scars

Patsy Kuipers, Guest Writer

Today’s Treasure

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

My right hand bears several scars, some the result of injuries, others from surgery. They’ve become less visible with time, but I can see them if I look hard enough. Let me tell you about those scars and some spiritual parallels I came up with when I realized the ugliest scar has faded along with the rest. 

I started drinking diet sodas when I was a teenager. Back then, the pop-tops weren’t attached to the cans. I would wipe the lid, peel off the tab, and drop it into the opening. Mom was horrified. “Someday, you’re going to drink one of those things!” I assured her I’d bent them enough that they wouldn’t come out. But one day, I left a tab on the kitchen counter instead of putting it in the can. When I washed my hands later, I dried them with a paper towel someone had placed on the counter, never thinking the metal tab might be underneath. The sharp edge made a small cut on top of my hand and accounts for my oldest scar. 

Mom was right – those tiny tabs belonged in the trash! 

Fast forward 50 years. Those little pull tabs are now securely attached to the top of cans, but you can pry them off if you bend them back and forth a few times, which is what my 13-year-old grandson was doing recently. I showed him the scar on the top of my hand and told him the story behind it. 

Is there a lesson you’ve learned from a poor decision in your past, something more critical than a small cut, that you can share to help others understand potential consequences and make better choices? 

Then there’s the scar from carpal tunnel surgery. The surgeon carefully made the incision in one of the creases on my palm, knowing it would help hide it. Sure enough, it’s barely visible. 

I’m not a fan of surgery because I don’t like to be put to sleep or deal with the downtime associated with recovery, and I often say “elective surgery” is an oxymoron in my vocabulary. But the carpal tunnel operation was so helpful I didn’t hesitate to have it done on the left side a year later, and I’ve recommended it to others who’ve experienced the pain and numbness associated with carpal tunnel syndrome. 

Just as I try to avoid surgery, I’m not one to beg God to send difficult circumstances into my life to grow my faith. Yet I know He often uses hard things to discipline me, draw me closer to Himself, and transform me into the image of His Son. Thus, I pray with the psalmist, “Search me, O God, and know my heart! See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting,” trusting the Holy Spirit to reveal and carefully excise things from my life that are hindering my walk with the Lord.  

Next up in the catalog of scar-producing injuries is a cut from an unsheathed razor. I vividly remember the moment. We were on vacation at the beach. I reached into my toiletry bag, not realizing the protective cover was no longer on the razor. The sharp blade sliced a small chunk of skin off the upper knuckle of my pointer finger. I almost passed out from the unexpected injury and the gush of blood that accompanied it. The wound healed but produced a bump of thickened skin, known as a keloid. 

The circumstances and raised scar associated with this injury remind me of relationships with people who I took at face value and trusted, only to have their true selves appear later, causing deep hurt and bewilderment. Doubting my ability to judge rightly and not wanting to experience that kind of betrayal again, I overreacted and built walls to keep others at a safe distance. 

And then there was the jagged, ugly scar I mentioned in the introduction. It resulted from a tumble I took on my front walk. I went to check the rain gauge but wasn’t careful on the slippery pavement and plummeted to the ground. Shocked and embarrassed, I leapt up lest anyone see me prostrate. Lightheaded and unsteady, I sought my neighbor’s help to stem the blood flow and apply a bandage. Several weeks later, when I saw how unsightly the scar was, I realized it would have been better if I’d sought medical care and gotten a few stitches. I accepted that it would be there forever, glaring at me, reminding me of the fall. 

But then, a few days before writing this, I realized that it, too, is barely visible. 

There have been times when I’ve lost focus and slipped into sin. I never thought I would find myself in such a predicament, and I tried my best to minimize the damage and cover my tracks. But my efforts were inadequate, like the bandage that barely staunched the flow of blood from my palm and the fig leaves Adam and Eve used to hide their nakedness. 

LIFE-GIVING ENCOURAGEMENT

We won’t pass through this life unscathed by the sin and brokenness inherent in our journey. Some of those injuries will be self-inflicted, others caused by people we encounter along the way, and still others due to generational sins that have simmered for decades.

It takes much more than self-applied treatments to wash away the sin and heal the hurts. Praise God for providing the spotless Lamb who was slain! Jesus was wounded for our transgressions, all of them. He can commiserate with our weaknesses, yet was without sin. He heals the brokenhearted and binds up our wounds. Blessed assurances!

The memories of past indiscretions linger, but just like the jagged scar I thought would be there forever, they’ve faded, replaced by the truth of Christ’s sacrificial love for me and my identity in Him. 

Jesus still bears the wounds from His crucifixion. It saddens me to think about Him carrying those scars forever. But I am so grateful those wounds will ever plead for me and other ransomed sinners, as Charles Wesley penned in his hymn, “Arise, My Soul, Arise.” 

I’ll close rejoicing with the final stanza and chorus of a more recent hymn, “The Power of the Cross:”(1)

Oh, to see my name Written in the wounds,
For through Your suffering, I am free. 
Death is crushed to death;
Life is mine to live, Won through Your selfless love

This, the pow’r of the cross:
Son of God – slain for us.
What a love! What a cost!
We stand forgiven at the cross.

PRAYER

Dear Lord, thank You for Your willingness to be pierced for our transgressions and to bear the scars throughout eternity so we can dwell with You forever.

(1) Stuart Townsend and Keith Getty, “The Power of the Cross,” Thank You Music, 2005.