It was clean up time at The Kiddy Dude Ranch Preschool. I was 5, but I was no fool. I ran to the toy box to grab the last few seconds with my favorite toy of the day. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only kid with this great idea. In the hustle and chaos, I tripped and fell, the corner of my eye catching the sharp edge of a Tonka truck. The next thing I remember is a bright light in my eyes as I was being sewn up. If you look closely, you can still see a little scar above my left eye, even after all these years.
We remodeled our house when I was twelve. I was helping Dad in the upstairs addition, when a board gave through and I fell down a flight to the floor below. On the way down, I hit my head, which knocked me out. A nail ripped open my wrist and I was losing blood fast. At the hospital, they discovered I was also bleeding internally, but they couldn’t say from where without opening me up. Today, I have a scar on my stomach from the surgery and another on my wrist and hand.
I bear the marks of these injuries and others, a reminder of the road I’ve traveled. I’ll carry them with me for the rest of my life, but they aren’t the ones that matter. They’re just the ones you can see.
Five years ago today, as I’m writing this, I stood with my friends and family as we buried my father. Just two weeks before, my mom passed away in a separate event. Both of them were too young. Neither of them were expected, at least not then. I remember looking into the crowd and in disbelief saying, “Is this really happening? This can’t be real.”
It was the beginning of the hardest season of my life. Disappointment. Doubt. Rebellion. Lack of direction. Numbness… In an instant, I didn’t belong to anyone anymore. I didn’t have a place to belong on Sunday afternoon or Christmas Day. I had to re-believe everything I’d previously been convinced of. I had to relearn how to simply ‘be’ in the world. My sister described it best when she said, “How am I supposed to get through losing my Mom without my Dad?”
I eventually got back up and walked again – but I walk with a limp now. I bear a mark from that loss. I’m forever changed. It would be impossible to see through the same eyes, to think with the same mind, to feel with the same heart. But maybe that’s the point.
Maybe our wounds leave scars behind to remind us that we’re different now, and that we’re meant to be. We know something that we didn’t before – about hurt, yes, but also about Healing – Hope – Patience – Compassion – Understanding – and Wholeness. Pain brings a kind of progress with it, even if it’s not what we would have chosen.
I’m not writing this post to share my sad story or to earn sympathy. If you walk away feeling sorry for me, you’ll have missed my point. I’m writing because we all have a sad story we could tell. We all bear scars from living, yet many of us do our best to hide them away. Maybe it’s time to embrace our scars as something we’ve earned – a reminder of what we’ve overcome and what we’ve been given.
What if pain left no mark on us?
Would we forget the road behind us?
The healing we’ve received,
The lessons we’ve learned,
The moments that have made us who we are?
They say time heals all wounds, but I’m not so sure it does. I’m not so sure it should. Maybe our scars are among the most important parts of who we are.
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Chance,
I absolutely loved this blog post! I completely agree. I don’t think time completely heals all wounds. I think it serves as a way to help us live with the things that created our scars and our scars will be a part of us whether they are visible or invisible. Thank you for the inspirational words!
Cheers,
Valery
I’m so moved by this post, because your writing captures your heart and shares it so eloquently. Thank you for sharing your scars with us, and how scars can help create and mold you. And, yes, I can’t help but feel sorry for you and feel your pain, but I also see the powerful lesson in it all. Thank you again.
Thank you, Skip. And thanks for sharing your scars with me. It helps to walk alongside a friend.
This is a beautiful post. I’ve been blogging for about 5 months and have a book coming out soon titled, Nothing to Hold but Hope. The book is about my experience with stillbirth, miscarriage, and infertility. It’s difficult to look ahead when feeling caught in the dark place of dealing with deep wounds. However, learning to somehow embrace the scars and turn sorrow into a beautiful ministry brings new purpose and fulfillment in all God has for us.
Thanks for sharing; I enjoyed the post very much.
Thanks, Jennifer. Congratulations on your soon coming book!
Well said. Brings to mind a lovely song, Heal The Wound. Going to listen now and let the tears soak my melancholy and gratefulness.
I produced Leigh’s vocal on that song. :) GREAT lyric, right?
Chance, I share a few things with you… one of them being a Tonka truck facial scar in my eye brow above my left eye. Mine did not get stitched though. :)
I too have lost both parents, mine died 3 months apart. The big difference was my parents were elderly. They both survived near life ending accidents when I was in my teens. They both recovered from alcoholism and the years afterwards were a bonus in my mind. I’m the middle child with 2 brothers. I’ve said over the years, we raised our parents and they really turned out great. In talking with my Mom, I commented it was a good thing you took photographs other wise you might not have a memory of our childhoods.
I admire you for how you have chosen to view your life, limp and all. !!!!
I was about 5 or 6 years past removing myself from a verbally abusive marriage that lasted 16 years when I had MY …. ‘Ahhh HA’ moment.
“Every single thing had to happen to me just the way it did to make me the person I am today.” Now I can add…. scars and all.
…scars and all. :)
I agree that we would never be the person we are without the adversity we overcome in life. It shapes us, just as the good and loving parts do. You have certainly put this into perspective in this post, Chance.
Someone asked me once if I ever “got over” losing Mama and Daddy. I said “no, and I don’t think I should. To get over losing them, I would have to forget them, and I would never, ever want to do that.”
I completely agree. I’ll write a post about this at some point, but the best advice I was given was to let it hurt. My friend said, “You grieve to an equal degree that you love.” It doesn’t mean that life doesn’t go on, or that we don’t have hope, but it allows us to not have to sweep the love (and the life) under the rug and move on. Those words, especially coming from the person who said them, let me off the hook.
This is wonderful. If you think about it, more than anything else, scars are evidence of the body’s ability to heal and to start again. Wearing them for the rest of your life is like having this constant reminder of your own resilience and the fact that we are much more equipped than we feel sometimes. We all say ‘life is fragile’ but sometimes I wonder…scars seems to exhibit something other than fragility.
Thanks for being so transparent. Not many of us could even comprehend what you went through five years ago, and look at you now. xxoo
I love this thought, Marabeth. I wish we’d talked about it before I wrote this piece, so I could have referenced it. RICH, rich, rich. Thank you so much for sharing with the class. ;) We are learning.
Our scars will remain with us no matter how hard we try to hide them so I absolutely agree – it’s so much better to accept them as a part of who we are and regard them as milestones on the way from where we once were to where we are now. I can consider myself lucky as I have a not so attractive scar on my right shoulder that’s hard to hide in summer time. Letting it show taught me not to feel embarrassed every time I get asked about it. I think by embracing my visible scar I’m learning to accept invisible ones. Thank you for this post which speaks to me 100%.
Chance,
just wanted to tell you I love this and love the place it brought me to. I’m both grateful and blessed to have crossed paths with it this morning. Also, to let you know I am featuring it on my site as well later today.
Great reflection Chance! Last Sunday in our Life Transitions class we talked about this very subject. The example of wounds that healed but left a scar to remind us of what happened and to help us try to avoid that hurt again can also be applied to emotional hurts too. Forgiveness helps heal but a scar will remain to remind us for protection and correction.
Thank you, Chance. This came in right on time. It helped me understand why some wounds have never healed. And probably never will.
Most importantly, that how we carry them is a matter of our own perception. Feeling sorry for oneself leads nowhere and insures those wounds will continue to be open and hurt for the rest of our lives. But if we let go of them and allow distance and time to turn them into scars, there will come a time when we can look back and see them as past painful events which ultimately also give meaning to our lives. In certain cases, those scars can even define what we will do with our lives in the future, and serve as reminders every time we have doubts as to whether or not we have made the right choice. THANK YOU.
I believe they are definitely the most important part of who we are. Our lives are defined through our response to them. Because like you said we are forever changed and will never be the person we were moments before the scar took place.
What an honor for your parents having thier memory be used to change anothers life.