Been thinking a lot about scars lately, both the inner and the outer kind.

Maybe it’s because I’ve had my fair share this year. Maybe it’s because a few old wounds keep popping back up, and that makes me uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because change creates tiny paper cuts that hurt way more than a deep gash. Who knows. Scars aren’t pretty; I do know that much.

I still get a lot of stares from people who have never seen me before.

On two separate occasions this week, an older man and a young boy asked about my facial scar. I found it funny that they were either past or before the age when most people would be too shy to speak. But they couldn’t help it; they simply were being human.

Sometimes scars are painful, sometimes just a painful reminder, and sometimes both.

But when we remember that we all have them–that we’re all human–it makes living with them a little easier. I was reminded today that it’s Love that changes lives, not law. It’s Jesus that changes hearts, not Paul (Can I be brutally honest? The church’s obsession and worship of Paul has got to go! #sorrynotsorry). It’s merciful balm that heals scars, not constant reminders of humanity’s ability to cause them. We are all human, and we know what we’re capable of.

What we need to hear is Christ Crucified, not Humanity Doomed.

The old man who asked about my scar… he told me his wife received a similar one in a car accident. He asked me about my scar because he wanted me to feel less alone. I had a similar opportunity today to share best wishes with a sweet girl who is about to go through a major life change. We have similar scars. I wanted her to feel less alone.

I wanted her to know we are all human, and maybe I was reminding myself of that, too, that we are loved and valued, scars and all.

#wednesdaywisdom#loveyourscars#BeHealed