Loving My Scars

Sad and maybe a little sick, but true – I love my scars. There are great stories of both triumph and tears behind each one of them. My left elbow tells the tale of a Mother’s Day motocross race long ago, involving a finish line jump and a well meaning (and poorly executed) desire to clear it. I learned how not to let off the gas at the top of the hill – the scar on my right elbow proves it. On my left shin, the scar from the foot peg comes from loading up my bike after the first time I went to a practice session unassisted by Bob or Nick.
On my right arm, I wear the heartbreaking teeth marks of a beautiful, powerful and misunderstood dog that bit me while having an absence seizure. The scars I wear emotionally from that incident are much more prominent. They are a reminder that the ones you love the most are the most likely to cause you the greatest disappointment and pain.
The scars we wear on our hearts are much less noticeable, but much more dangerous. Betrayal and loss leave profound marks on our hearts that, if not appropriately dealt with, will contribute to further damage and ugly healed marks.
I got to thinking about these scars today because they are so much prominent now that my skin is tanned – exposure to the sun makes my scars much more noticeable, and I couldn’t help but thinking that my perspective on these scars would really shape how those around me see them when they are out in the open. Whether physical or emotional, your approach to your scars, whether positive or negative, will determine how those around you will see them. Your heart, along with its scars, will undoubtedly be exposed to opportunities to love and trust. If you can see strength and resilience in your healed emotional wounds, then you healed well, and you can be proud of your circumstances, and the person you are because of them.

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