Well it really is as late as this post says it is...almost 2am...for the second night in a row. So I decided to write about what my mind has been wandering over...my scar.
One of the most precious and sacred moments that happened after I got married was when my new husband saw my whole scar. Now of course I have shown it to lots of people since I got it almost exactly 13 years ago ( actually this semptember marks the point in my life where I have had it as long as I didn't have it.) But these peeps don't really count.
Even this summer at camp the girls wanted to see what spinal fusion surgery will do to a girl and I am not shy about showing my back...from belt line to just about bra strap that it. Anyway...only about three people have seen my whole scar...my mom...my doctor...my husband. That is because this line of healed flesh goes from upper scapula level to..uheemmm...well let's just say parts of my body that don't get sun...or seen.
So this intense vulnerability and openess had to be earned. You pledge your life to me and you get to see my scar...that's how it goes. So really only the very few and select have really seen the wound that changed my life.
When I was thirteen my scoliosis reached the point where doctors decided that it was worth the trauma to my body then to cut me open straighten my little spine out and put in some rods to make sure that it stayed straight. After that ordeal I got some super powers ( and pain killers ;)
Super powers:
1) abilty to have perfect posture at all times (great for parties)
2) power to amaze even late elementary-aged boys with my gory operating room stories
3) uncanny knack for predecting barometric pressure even before I get out of bed
4) empathy
I think that's the great thing about really big scars...it's like joining a secret club. The other members share similar histories, shared understanding of pain, and knowledge of our bodies' strength that those without scars cannot grasp.
We know that our bodies are not perfect. We have witnessed their ability to heal themselves (that's what recovery is...getting out of the way of ourselves). We have permanent fleshly reminders of what pain is.
And only the precious, trustworthy few get to see these scars in their entirety.
Jesus was a member of the really-big-scar-secret-club. His scars were the geteway to faith for Thomas, the byproduct of salvation for the rest of us, and a symbol of love, vulnerability, and belonging I am only beginning to grasp at.
"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
One of the most precious and sacred moments that happened after I got married was when my new husband saw my whole scar. Now of course I have shown it to lots of people since I got it almost exactly 13 years ago ( actually this semptember marks the point in my life where I have had it as long as I didn't have it.) But these peeps don't really count.
Even this summer at camp the girls wanted to see what spinal fusion surgery will do to a girl and I am not shy about showing my back...from belt line to just about bra strap that it. Anyway...only about three people have seen my whole scar...my mom...my doctor...my husband. That is because this line of healed flesh goes from upper scapula level to..uheemmm...well let's just say parts of my body that don't get sun...or seen.
So this intense vulnerability and openess had to be earned. You pledge your life to me and you get to see my scar...that's how it goes. So really only the very few and select have really seen the wound that changed my life.
When I was thirteen my scoliosis reached the point where doctors decided that it was worth the trauma to my body then to cut me open straighten my little spine out and put in some rods to make sure that it stayed straight. After that ordeal I got some super powers ( and pain killers ;)
Super powers:
1) abilty to have perfect posture at all times (great for parties)
2) power to amaze even late elementary-aged boys with my gory operating room stories
3) uncanny knack for predecting barometric pressure even before I get out of bed
4) empathy
I think that's the great thing about really big scars...it's like joining a secret club. The other members share similar histories, shared understanding of pain, and knowledge of our bodies' strength that those without scars cannot grasp.
We know that our bodies are not perfect. We have witnessed their ability to heal themselves (that's what recovery is...getting out of the way of ourselves). We have permanent fleshly reminders of what pain is.
And only the precious, trustworthy few get to see these scars in their entirety.
Jesus was a member of the really-big-scar-secret-club. His scars were the geteway to faith for Thomas, the byproduct of salvation for the rest of us, and a symbol of love, vulnerability, and belonging I am only beginning to grasp at.
"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
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