Scars are born through healing.
They are birthed affect some type of injury.
They are a visual and emotional reminder of what we have endured.
I’ve had these scars since 1997. I was a small little second grader who had just finished a great day at school. All I wanted to do was ride my bike. No bikes were rode that day, instead I rode in the back of an ambulance after a rottweiler- pitbull mix gnashed away at my flesh nearly biting into my lung. He was 1/4 of an inch away from my lung when his owner finally pulled him off of me. Over time this scar has shrunk. The haunting’s have stopped, but the memory still remains as crystal clear as the day it happened.
Then there are these scars. They have plagued my body since I was young. Through the years they fade in and out, but are a constant reminder of what I have put my body through. As a child, I over ate. Food was an addiction, it was an escape. When food didn’t work, I escaped into technology- ridding myself of and enjoyment I once found outside. I grew sedentary. When I was told I was fat, I tried to shrink by starving myself. When that didn’t work I binged. When that didn’t work I purged. When that didn’t work I tried to end it all.
This year I learned what works. What works is the gospel. What works is the saving grace of Jesus. What works is the power of the savior. Through Him, I endured 3 months of constant work outs, diet training, and lifestyle rebuilding. Through Him, I focused on the end result and came out victorious. Through Him, I sought a consistent relationship with Him, and came out secure. Through Him, I went in a lowly girl and came out a confident young woman. Through Him, I inspired others to go return their temples back to their creator. Through Him, I found life.
I have all these things now and still have these scars. But now, these scars don’t haunt me. They push me on. They remind me I can overcome and change. They challenge me to grow. They show me my beauty.