Scars and Stars

As we age, we look back over our past at our youthful days, to our days of learning, and of listening to instruction what do we remember? Do we remember the painful lessons that we’ve earned or do we remember our accomplishments? The scars of the past for the most part have healed. They are no longer painful, covered with a thick protective layer of skin. Sometimes they itch and we look at them remembering the not-so-intelligent thing we did.

I’m not talking about actual physical scars, although there are those times our stupidity has given us scars from burns, cuts, broken bones, or other physical injuries. The scars I’m talking about are seen by no one else but us. These are emotional scars because of something we’ve done that was embarrassing, illegal, or irresponsible; the things that if we would have a do-over we would make better choices.

Then there are star moments; things that we’ve accomplished and are proud to share. I’ve told other people to keep a journal of their accomplishments, when they’ve done something special or meaningful. Usually I share this tip when I know the person is having a bad day and feeling like tossing in the towel. It could be one of the scar days, self-inflicted or by one caused by someone else. Who caused it, it doesn’t matter but when the day is drawing to a close, I tell them to pull out that scrapbook of better and read a few items. It may just lighten the load.

I know when I write my blog, I often share my star moments. Many of my scars are still not sharable and I have yet to really evaluate them. They are a part of what has made me who I am today, but they are in the past. All are covered in blood. Not my blood, but the blood of someone who died a long time ago. A person who sacrificed Himself to redeem me, to pay the price for sins He didn’t commit and to pay for the sin debt He did not owe. This sin debt was one I was unable to pay myself.

How can I explain that when I see His scars, I only see stars? His blood has covered all my scars, never to be recalled again. Although I still have memories of those sinful scars, Jesus died on the cross of Calvary nearly 2000 years and has removed my sins as far from me as the east is from the west.