Life’s Little Scars

At a Starbucks this morning…

The table has a few scars. Battle scars? Or simply accidental markings.

I have a scar on my right wrist where I met the road face to face one night. Mom wasn’t feeling good and I went to the store on my bike for her medicine -Coke and candy bar!

IMG_4861The road was dark. I knew the pot hole was there, just not where. As circumstances demand, I swerved into its path and met the road… Unusually.

Emergency room, painful shot, cleansing pump to get rid of asphalt, stitches, bandage… Back home.

I think moms illness was cured!

The next few weeks were painful reminders of a disabled right hand. School was a struggle. No playing in a roughhouse way. Steering my bike with my left hand only was a challenge.

I blamed my poor grades in Algebra on that incident, but fact is – this kind of math made no sense!

Scars either remind us of failures, or show us a better way of looking at the consequences of life.

The physical scars on the body of Jesus show me a better way of thinking about my challenges.


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