a thing of beauty?

I am a woman and therefore I spend a certain amount of time in front of the mirror - not as much as most to be sure, considering I have four children at home and usually the bathroom mirror is covered with toothpaste. I also am not much of a primper - throw a baseball cap on and a little Burt’s Bees lipgloss and I’m about as preened as I will get.

Hower, lately I have been checking myself in the mirror more often. Or rather I have been checking my face and a little tell-tale mark across the bridge of my nose. I’m curious to see how what was a rather deep gash heals and whether or not a noticeable scar will be there forever. (I’m betting yes.) I’m not vain about it, worrying that it will disfigure me, but am rather curious just to see what happens. Right now it is healed, although still somewhat sore, and there is a slight bump in the skin.

Everytime I look into the mirror, I will be reminded of a recent accident involving a 2x4 and a table saw that left me with busted glasses, a bleeding nose and two black eyes, not to mention a very large gooseegg on my forehead, a miniature version which is still there. I was not a pretty sight, but all things considered, have healed quite nicely, although the glasses were irreparable.

The little scar across my nose will forever remind me of how lucky I was to not lose an eyeball and how stupid I was to take the safety guards off my table saw.

Scars are funny that way. Some we are proud of - like where the hockey puck hit us in the chin during a high school game. Some are a part of life - like the stretch marks across my belly or the tiny chicken pox indentations on my two-year-old’s temple. Some recall trauma from accidents or surgery. Some are even remembered fondly or with humor - like the fact that one of my middle fingers is flatter than the other from getting squished in a Laz-E-Boy. But they all have the capacity to remind us of something.

Scars on the inside, while invisible, often hurt more. They are either healed, healing or still bleeding. Sometimes they bleed for a long time, longer than we would like. Sometimes they are still bleeding or still mending, even though we think they are completely healed.

The thing about scars is, inside or out, they shape us into who we are. They change the way we look at our bodies. They change the way we look at our world. They, plain and simple, cause pain. Sometimes, that pain is short-lived and other times it is lifelong.

But regardless of the kind or amount or length of pain, our scars are almost as individual as we are. We all have them to varying degrees and in varying stages of healing. We have scars from loss, from abuse, from failed relationships, from car accidents and from baseball games. We might even have scars from picking zits or chicken pox.

While we may not share the same kinds of scars, we do share the opportunity to look at our scars, inside and out, as potential things of beauty. I don’t make that comment lightly or to diminish pain. I am still bleeding from a different, more painful wound that will undoubtedly scar me in a way I haven’t yet anticipated. I don’t know how this scar will heal or when, but what I do know is that it will eventually.

I also know that I can take my scars (the oh-so-many of them) and either look at them as only painful reminders of what kind of world we live in and the frailty of our human bodies, or I can see in them the opportunity to learn something about myself, about those who minister to me and about my God.

I can use them as an excuse to check out or I can use them as a catalyst toward a deeper reliance on God and his plan, even though I can’t begin to understand it. I can even use my scars to minister to others facing similar pain. And someday, hopefully I and others will be able to look at those scars as things of beauty.

They are maybe not beautiful per se, but capable of bringing forth beauty through how they remind me of where I’ve been, where I am and where I’m going. And how I’ll be going there with a little bump across my nose.

The only difference is that I’ll have learned to wear safety goggles.