Scars

And what did it cost God to become our Father? His only-begotten Son. The infinite delight of his infinite heart. Betrayed, beaten, scourged, mocked, spit on, nailed, stripped, and forsaken. How much our Father loves us!

As I got dressed for work this morning the scars on my arms and near my waist caught my attention once again.  As I thought about it for a moment I realized that these scars are both horrible and beautiful.

These scars are horrible disfigurements of my arms and my waist.  They include stretch marks, and marks within those marks, bruises and visible patches of discolored skin.  They are horrible reminders of the kidney condition that I was diagnosed with and the difficult treatment that followed.  As I looked at these scars I was reminded of the painful biopsy, the 30 - 40 lbs of weight gain, the fatigue, the intense sweating during even the coldest days of winter. I was reminded of the ridicule and hurtful comments made by friends and strangers at the way my face had swollen up like a giant pumpkin.  

These scars are also beautiful reminders on my body.  The scars are reminders of the 10 - 11 years of remission that I have sense enjoyed.  They are beautiful reminders of my mother's love, and the beautiful day that my mother prayed for me.  They are reminders of the wonderful doctor that agreed to treat me like a human being rather than a case number, the amazing and wonderful nurses I met, and especially the Christian nurse who encouraged me with scripture and prayer along the way.  These scars remind me of my families love and care, and of my best friend and wife who has been with me from day one.  Sometimes I imagine that these scars are the marks of God, where God reached down through time and used this tragic diagnosis to pull me closer to himself.

My scars are also beautiful b/c they caused me to think about the horrible and beautiful scars of Christ.  Christ's scars are horrible reminders of the cost of sin, and how our sin nailed him to the cross.  His hands remind me of the painful price he had to pay to be the spotless Lamb of God.  His side reminds me of how he died and how dark and alone he must have felt as he hung and died.  They are horrible reminders of how hate, envy, jealousy and lawlessness led to Calvary. 

Christ's scars are also beautiful.  They are beautiful because his hands and side remind me of how much God loved us.  They remind me of how God is both just and justifier.  They are beautiful reminders that God indeed loved the world so much that he gave, and gave, and gave us his only Son.  In his scars I find the beautiful reminder that by his wounds we are healed, and that truth that God has already proved his love for us.  The hands and side that he showed to Thomas are also beautiful reminders of the victory over the grave, the promises of resurrection and life.  Christ's scars are beautiful because with them he purchased each of us back from the dead.

My scars will always be a duality of horror and beauty.  The horror of disease and the beauty of healing, wholeness, love and prayer.  The scars of the cross are also the duality of horror and beauty.  The horror of sin, shame, darkness and hell on the one hand.  The beauty of love, grace, salvation, peace, fellowship and victory on the other.  

With love (& in triumph),
Cassius