Scars

My arms look like I've done battle as a street fighter. In reality, each of these scars have a story (albeit a rather boring little tale about the time I reached over a boiling pot and scalded myself ... or accidentally touched an oven rack ... or grazed an iron ... or [you get the idea]).

I forget about these scars as I go about my day-to-day life. People who know me, know what has happened to me. I laughingly say that these scars are evidence the I make the attempt to cook/bake &/or iron.

Other scars are not so visible.

The fat lips, the black eyes and the bruises from my marriage healed and became invisible to the eye. It is only when I consciously go back into the recesses of that time in my life, that I remember the evidence of how wounded I was within that relationship.

Then there are the scars that no one else in the world can see.

Emotional wounds run the deepest. Like salt on an open wound, the slow but steady attack on one's self esteem erodes something much deeper than the battle wounds of a physical attack.

I have all kinds of scars. We all do.

I am one of the fortunate ones. Though I had very little self esteem as a child, it was self inflicted. Time, maturity and life experienced healed all that I felt was hurtful as I went through the growing pains of life.

I had minor skirmishes between friends ... but I was never bullied or picked on. My school days may not be full of light and carefree memories ... but neither was there a shadow of foreboding that made facing the day a nightmare.

Most of my war wounds come from doing battle after I left the safety of my home.

Relationships of the male/female variety left their fair share of scars. Physically, financially, emotionally and psychologically. Thankfully, I can say that I have come to terms with each wound and all that is left is the scar of that which has healed.

Do I stop and wonder about the injuries that I have inflicted during those battles? Yes ... I do. Relationships are a two way street and though I was hurt within them ... I too, inflicted my fair share of pain. I am not without blame.

I wear my scars like a badge of honor. I was hurt. I have healed. I have overcome. Most importantly? I tried.

Never be ashamed of the scars that life has left you with.

A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed, you endured

the pain and God has healed you.

~Author Unknown~