Give Thanks

So here we go again with Thanksgiving! I think this holiday is largely ignored by the modern human populace, and that's a shame. By this point in the year, all of the Christmas decorations are going up/have been up for weeks. We have Halloween, then we have Christmas for three months, with virtually a single by-line for Thanksgiving that goes as follows: Oh, yeah, and give thanks. And eat turkey and be gluttonous, for tomorrow we shop for Christmas!"

Pathetic.

Therefore, I will honor the tradition I set last year by spending the days leading up to Thanksgiving with posts about things things for which I am thankful. 

Today, I am thankful for scars. Yes, you read that right. Scars.

In case you haven't heard this already, folks, life is hard. Unless you're one of those benighted individuals that just seems to float through life knowing only two adjectives ("cute!" and "sad...") and having everything given to them, you're going to suffer. Sorry to burst your bubble. Welcome to reality. Life at some point either has shattered you or will shatter you. "There is no escape, Luke," life says. "Don't make me destroy you."

Lately, I've been contemplating the whole idea of suffering and beauty a lot, and what these concepts mean to life. I've come to the conclusion that suffering is beauty. To see that kind of beauty, we have only to look at the Man on the cross. He is scarred and He has suffered a kind of agony that no one can possibly understand -- not only has he gone through physical pain of the cruelest sort, but He has also experienced utter spiritual rejection from the Father. The pure and perfect Man became sin in all its ugliest forms. Still, who can look at Jesus' scarred hands and not see beauty? In those scars is redemption, as well as the hope of heaven that He bought for His children with his blood and spirit. What could be more beautiful?

I have scars on my heart. I admit it quite freely. They will always ache and cause me pangs, some days worse than others. Humans cry loftily "get over it" at the suffering and believe in empowerment and strength. I hate that phrase. Nobody can ever just "get over it." They can overcome their trials, yes, but they will never truly forget the pain that caused the scars on their hearts. The beauty comes in realizing that there is good in these scars that cause me pain. Each one of these scars represents a time when God didn't let me fall. They are a symbol of growth and change and love. 

My scars are a mere echo of the scars that Jesus' body bears. How can I resent anything that makes me more like Him? I cannot, therefore I must be thankful for my scars. Every time that I am made weak, God is made strong. My weakness allows me to be stabbed, that's true enough. I hate being weak ... but that gives God the room to work. When the heart is weak and pliable is when God can truly shape it in His image.

What scars are you thankful for? What times of trial are you resenting, instead of allowing it to be a time when God shows His grace in your life? I know that there are some wounds I've been licking, instead of allowing them to scab over and heal. A line will always show, but oh! What a beautiful line it will be!