One writes me - her heart aches as she looks into the precious face of her injured child only to see marks of imperfection...
A friend sobs - Her marriage broken. Desperately grasping at pieces but her dreams are shattered...
A father, filled with regret - still too fearful...too proud... to open his heart and restore the relationship with his son...
A mother, weeps for the baby ripped from her womb...now cradled within the dirt. Another kisses her child's coffin after he pushed a shotgun to his head...
I listen...I weep...no words. Wounds. Deep, bleeding wounds.
In time they will become scars.
ALL humanity has been broken.
Some carry scars on the outside, others are imprinted upon the heart. They're ugly. We hide them the best we can. Why? Why do we hide behind a phony mask - pretend they don't exist? Why do we view the scars of life as something bad? Perhaps, we think they show weakness...failure.
We want perfection. We strive for it. And when expectations go unmet we become angry.
Our choices, our sin, have marred God's perfect creation. Is that why we constantly strive for the illusion? For deep within our soul we know we were made for so much more? He wanted so desperately for us to stay perfect...unscathed. We chose something different. Now we must accept this world as fallen. We don't - you know. We don't accept the consequence of humanities rebellion. This isn't the way it's suppose to be!
We scream. Beg. Wrestle. We doubt God's goodness.
Betrayal cuts clean through...sickness rages on...loved ones die...life is unfair...unjust.
Where is God in all of this?
Why would a loving God allow such suffering?
Why doesn't He just step in and fix it?
I don't know.
I'm not God.
I can not see the whole picture.
Why did He let His son suffer on a cross for those who hated Him?
He loves us.
We wince at scars yet it's the scars of Jesus that have set us free. The marks in His wrists, feet, side and back...it's those same agonizing scars that inked in blood His love for me...for you. Unfathomable brutality...became beauty. The scars we carry from this life, visible or etched upon the slate of our hearts can also be turned into beauty. Each one tells a story - a story of love, grace, forgiveness and Christ - if we choose to see. The promise was never that we wouldn't walk through the valley but that when we did, He would never leave us.
This I know - God is good ALL the time. He loves me. He loves me SO much that He gave his son to save me. So I can trust that He is NEVER going to allow anything into my life unless it is good. Though the pain of this life weighs heavy... if I trust Him... He will turn my ashes into beauty. And He will do the same for you.
Until then...
Jessie
A friend sobs - Her marriage broken. Desperately grasping at pieces but her dreams are shattered...
A father, filled with regret - still too fearful...too proud... to open his heart and restore the relationship with his son...
A mother, weeps for the baby ripped from her womb...now cradled within the dirt. Another kisses her child's coffin after he pushed a shotgun to his head...
I listen...I weep...no words. Wounds. Deep, bleeding wounds.
In time they will become scars.
ALL humanity has been broken.
Some carry scars on the outside, others are imprinted upon the heart. They're ugly. We hide them the best we can. Why? Why do we hide behind a phony mask - pretend they don't exist? Why do we view the scars of life as something bad? Perhaps, we think they show weakness...failure.
We want perfection. We strive for it. And when expectations go unmet we become angry.
I remember the soft, smooth skin of a newborn. I wanted so desperately for my children to stay perfect...unscathed by the cruelty of this life. Perfect. Then - then a skinned knee, a broken heart, shattered dreams. Living...Loving...Learning...had marred what I wanted for them.
We scream. Beg. Wrestle. We doubt God's goodness.
Betrayal cuts clean through...sickness rages on...loved ones die...life is unfair...unjust.
Where is God in all of this?
Why would a loving God allow such suffering?
Why doesn't He just step in and fix it?
I don't know.
I'm not God.
I can not see the whole picture.
Why did He let His son suffer on a cross for those who hated Him?
He loves us.
We wince at scars yet it's the scars of Jesus that have set us free. The marks in His wrists, feet, side and back...it's those same agonizing scars that inked in blood His love for me...for you. Unfathomable brutality...became beauty. The scars we carry from this life, visible or etched upon the slate of our hearts can also be turned into beauty. Each one tells a story - a story of love, grace, forgiveness and Christ - if we choose to see. The promise was never that we wouldn't walk through the valley but that when we did, He would never leave us.
This I know - God is good ALL the time. He loves me. He loves me SO much that He gave his son to save me. So I can trust that He is NEVER going to allow anything into my life unless it is good. Though the pain of this life weighs heavy... if I trust Him... He will turn my ashes into beauty. And He will do the same for you.
Until then...
Jessie
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