Scars

While sitting in church this morning, the only person in the row, it occurred to me that I was alone. Other church-goers were in their seats, but I was sitting alone. It also occured to me that it was of my own doing. It is a bit of an odd feeling, neither good nor bad, just a matter of fact.

From the row behind me I hear, "Look at all of my scars." And I thought to myself, "Look at all of my scars!"

While the young speaker was referring to the scars on her hands from various childhood mishaps, I was thinking of the scars on my heart. Those scars, the ones I try to hide, but are truly never hidden, are part of the reason I sit alone. And almost as quickly as those thoughts flashed by, were the words "Look at the scars on My hands, for by them you were healed".

A flush washed over me as I was ever so gently reminded that for all the scars I bear, for all the wounds I've suffered and caused, there are none so precious nor healing than the wounds my Savior suffered for me. Little old me, whom He loved, and cherished, and died for.

But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

Thank you Lord for sweet reminders, tender healing, and the grace to continue each day. I am not alone with You by my side.