Scars. We all have them in some form or another, don’t we? Scars from accidents. Scars from surgeries. Scars from the past. We have two choices. Hide them, or show them. Some probably should be hidden, while others…should be shown.
After Jesus rose from the dead, He came to see his disciples. Thomas was not there. When the others told him that they saw Jesus, he didn’t believe them.
I won’t believe until I see and touch his scars.
8 days later Jesus came back. He spoke to Thomas specifically. “Look here Thomas, touch my scars and believe!”
Thomas was excited and he believed. He saw the scars, then he believed.
My scars are very real. Since I published my story last week I’ve had so many encouraging comments from others. Even so, the enemy has been pouncing, telling me that I’m crazy for telling my story. Telling me that others are repulsed by me. Telling me that he’s the one that is getting the glory for sharing such a personal experience. Oh, he’s working alright… he’s working hard to get me down.
Don’t worry. It’s not working.
Satan may know me and he may know my weaknesses…but ya know what? I know him better. Sounds kinda sadistic doesn’t it? I don’t mean for it to sound that way, but in battle if you aren’t able to anticipate the move of your opponent it can be hard to win. You gotta get really good at predicting those moves. God has given me everything in His word to ward off the attacks. I have my ammunition and I’m ready.
There’s that tiny moment I doubt, my shoulders may slump a little and my head hangs just a wee bit lower than it should.. it’s then that I’m quickly swept up in Christ’s love and mercy and all is good. He says to me, in that mamma sort of way; you know that mamma voice when you’re in trouble sort of way, “Nope Shannon, we’re not doin’ that today.” Get up. Get up and go.
So I go.
Because you see, when we allow Satan to win- when we listen to his lies, when we start to believe him; he has us. He has us right where he wants us. We stop reaching out to others. We stop fulfilling that call God has placed on us.
We stay, when we know we should go.
For those who are reading my blog for the first time, I encourage you to take a couple minutes and start here to catch up on my story.
I know that my scars are self-inflicted, but a scar is a scar. Whether it’s self-inflicted or not, it’s a scar. I googled “self inflicted scars” and a lot of results popped up. One was from Wikihow – “6 ways to get rid of self harm scars.” I thought it was kinda comical…I mean, you can find out how to do anything on Wikihow. Not only that, they’ll give you 6 ways!
All jokes aside, I can see wanting to get rid of a physical, self-harm scar like that. On the other hand, I’m not sure I’d want too. I don’t have those types of physical scars. My scars are not visible to the naked eye, but they’re there…and to be honest, I don’t know if I would go so far as to say that I’m “glad” they’re there….but I am very thankful to have them. Because you see, if not for my scars I would never have known the love of a savior like I do today.
I would have never known what he truly…truly did for me on the cross.
He was innocent, yet he loved me so much and died for me. His scars are far worse than mine. I mean, mine are nothing compared to His. Yet, somehow he takes them and heals them. He makes them reminders of His redemption and grace. He loves me so much.
He loves you so much.
Shortly after my infidelity I attended an amazing grace filled church. Our pastor has a huge heart for those that don’t know Jesus. There wasn’t and still isn’t a Sunday where he doesn’t try to lead others to Christ. After every message that he preaches, he invites anyone that doesn’t know Jesus to repeat a prayer after him. So that no one feels uncomfortable he asks that everyone join in. The prayer goes something like this: “Dear Jesus, please forgive me and come into my heart. Make me clean. Make me new. I believe that you died for me on the cross and I believe in you!” He asks that everyone repeat after him, so that no one feels uncomfortable. At this point I had already asked Jesus for forgiveness, but was still very broken and weighed down by my sin. I remember that I would cry every time we recited this prayer. I cried because I finally understood.
I finally understood the power of the cross and what He did for me.
I finally understood the power in those scars.
Countless women have approached me or messaged me to tell me how God has touched them in some way because of my story. Others have told me of their own secret sins looking for hope and asking for prayer.
It’s what it’s all about.
Satan would love nothing more than for me to keep my mouth shut and for this to stay in the darkness. Because it’s in the darkness where he lurks. He lurks and he pulls and he rattles. Darkness is his playground and he’s the ultimate bully.
My scars are also proof that Jesus is ALIVE. There’s no other reason why me and my husband are happily married today. No.Other.Reason.
My scars are someone else’s hope.
They are living proof of Christs’ redemption and grace. Proof that He changes lives!
So I have shown my scars. And I hope you believe.
When me and my husband were in the throes of struggle a dear friend would say to me in her most comforting way, “everything’s going to be okay.” It’s such a generic statement, but so comforting at the same time.
So, see my scars? I am healed. I am whole. And everything’s going to be okay.
I hope you find Christ through my story. Everyone has one, ya know; a story that needs to be told. Who can you tell your story to today? Who needs to hear that they’re going to be okay? Who needs to hear about Christ? Let me know how I can pray for you!