The Sunday Sermonette – Scars.

“Come on, Andy! Jump!” Dad said, as he encouraged me to do just that, jump from the side of the Hotel Biloxi’s pool into his loving arms. And I did! However, my four-year-old self didn’t land as planned. My chin slammed into his forehead with bloody results. Mom quickly gathered me up in a beach towel, and off to the hospital we dashed in Dad’s Nash Rambler. I don’t remember much about that day except the blood and the vanilla-like smell of the surgical sheet that the Emergency Room staff put over my face, as I drifted off to anesthetic slumber.

Now, seventy years later, my chin scar, barely visible, has a friend: a 2022 forehead scar that looks like I ran into a pigmy-I-beam. Those scars have another companion: a current, centipede-looking scar on my upper arm. I’m thankful that I’m no vainer than I am, because physical scars from injury, surgery, or illness can significantly affect self-image and self-esteem. As we all know, today’s society revolves around physical beauty, and it often stigmatizes any disfigurement. Even mild scarring can cause distress, and its emotional burden is sometimes far greater than its severity.

Life presents us with other kinds of scars, as well.

While physical scars are visible, mental scars are invisible. They are caused by emotional trauma, abuse, or prolonged stress, and their tentacles can wrap themselves around a person’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors for years or decades. Those scars often form when a traumatic experience overwhelms the brain’s ability to process it.

Both kinds of scars are impactful, and recognizing their causes, understanding their effects, and seeking support can help us overcome them. In most cases, healing is possible, but it requires addressing them so they become less noticeable in our lives. Can scars, though, become a testament to transformation? The Good Book often paints scars—wounds, injuries, grief, shame, and brokenness—not as symbols of defeat but symbols of resilience. These scars are not just reminders of pain. They are often testaments to Father God’s presence in our lives.

Job and Jacob carried visible and mental scars that reflected their trials and Father God’s faithfulness in helping them survive. Poor Job was covered with boils and lost his wealth and his family. Jacob feared his role as a leader and his own imperfections. The Psalmist wrote this about Father God: “He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.” The Prophet Jeremiah wrote: “For I will restore health unto thee, and I will heal thee of thy wounds, saith the LORD.”

Like Job and Jacob, our Savior, Jesus Christ, experienced mental and physical suffering and had the scars to prove it. Because He was both God and human, he felt the sharp nails driven into his hands and the jagged splinters in his back from the cruel cross on which he was crucified. He also experienced mental agony when He cried out, “Oh, my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.”

Our personal struggles do indeed leave scars, but we have a choice. We can let them represent healing and newfound strength, or we can wallow in our misery. By embracing our scars, we let Father God work through them toward a brighter future. That sheet and its vanilla smell from long ago still remind me of the physical and mental pain I experienced as a child. I try, however, to overcome it each time I snarf down a big bowl of vanilla ice cream. What physical or mental scars do you need to overcome?

Ponder this and go forth.