May 14, 2018 / Life
Wounds & Scars
Strolling through a quiet town after dinner we talked about life in a way we hadn’t before. Usually, conversations like this are blurted out between sobs of frustration.
Tonight we talk about pain…about my pain…but tonight we talk about it in a place of peace.
An hour ago we ate tacos and laughed at the memories of our first date at that exact table nearly two years ago.
Tonight is comfortable to talk about pain because I’m not hurting. I’m opening up in a new way – in a safe place of talking. I’m not fighting back, I’m calm.
We talk about wounds and scars. I’d love to say I came up with this but I overheard it from two friends talking at the coffee shop.
Wounds and scars…I’ve got them both. My wounds still hurt. They still bring me pain. They’re still tender to the touch of a misplaced word, an ill-timed silence, or a misinterpreted look. My wounds are fresh despite being decades old.
I voice my desire for my wounds to become scars. To become a subtle reminder of things healed.
I express my fears that if I let go of my wounds and allow them to heal I will lose my story or forget a part of who I am. Wounds have defined me.
Allowing wounds to heal is scary. It means losing the right to react in pain…losing the right to feel wounded. Healing is new and scary and yet hopeful.
A gentle reminder as we walk; I’m only hurting myself more when I refuse to heal. At some point I have to give up my excuses and let it become a scar. I have to stop holding others responsible for the pain that I perpetrate on myself. Pain that may have originally been from others has become my own vice – keeping these wounds fresh.
I have some scars already too. Maybe you do as well. My scars are wounds that at some point I accepted and allowed to heal.
I have the scar of being completely rejected by that girl in middle school. I can laugh about that one now.
I have the scar of laughter at the expense of my bowl-cut hair and my “spowts gowgles” glasses I embarrassingly and yet proudly wore as a child. These wounds have become scars that are still a part of my story but they’ve lost some of their power over me.
I’m ok with my scars. I don’t feel the need to change those parts of me or hide them. They’re a part of who I am.
Tonight no new scars are formed. My wounds are still wounds…it doesn’t all heal that fast…but I see the hope of what they could become one day. I see the healing that is possible if I allow it to happen.
Maybe you have experienced this transformation of wounds to scars. Maybe it’s what you desperately need. Healing is possible. It’s messy and slow and you’ll always have scars.
Wounds can heal. Time helps. Talking to God about it helps. Good friendships help a lot. Sometimes it takes a professional, a therapist, to do some major surgery on our wounds.
Whatever you feel right now…it can be better. There can be healing.