What does your story say?
Do you have a physical or emotional scar? Imagine you are at your sink washing dishes. You face a window overlooking the sprawling backyard. Glancing out seeing a flash of red, think nothing of it. Continuing washing you realize your three young children are playing in the backyard, and your husband is showing his visiting uncle how the new industrial size riding lawn mower works. As the dish drops and shatters as it hits the floor, you run outside to the mower as fast as you can. The next few days a blur as you are in and out of the hospital room with your youngest daughter, a 2 year old. At least this is what my mother recalls. This is not my story. It is my scar, but not my story.
Cold and dark
It was dark under that heavy piece of cold steel. I was scared. I heard screaming. This would be my story, if I remembered it. Thank God for not remembering ANY of it. I do sometimes think I recall the sound of my bones hitting the under blade. Maybe that is part of the emotional scar. I don’t have a story to tell, I have my mother’s story and hers alone. My father refuses to speak about it. I haven’t spoke to him at all in years. He is a coward, and no not because he feels bad about it. He still has that mower and displayed it as a trophy recently. Another part of the emotional scar? Maybe.
Physical
Let’s fast forward to today. My lasting impressions of this summer day so long ago:
From just past the middle of my back at the spine, going along the left side of the hip and down toward the other side of my thigh. All along the left side of my body there are scars. One and two inch lengths along my arm, on the back of my head, and a thick one halfway across my knee. It truly is a miracle I was not cut in half or lost my leg in two places.
Miraculous
The true miracle is that I am even alive. I can walk and even had a natural childbirth! God is Good! I do now some 40 plus years later, have days where my hip hurts so bad I can’t stand for long or sit for long, but that is so minor to what could have been. At first I was surprised that this long after an old injury, one could have issues, but upon researching (something I love doing), I learned old scar tissue can continue to grow into bone and tighten and thus arthritis is also starting.
There are different types of scars. We all have them. Some are larger and more visible then others. Some you can’t even see, but there are still there. Hidden, ready to come back at you when you least expect it. Like a song or memory you thought you left in the past, it shows up to remind you it’s still there.
Dealing with the pain
The way each one of us deals with the emotional aspect is as similar as the physical scars on our body. Each one unique as we are. Is The act of what happened to me emotionally painful? Not as much as a bad relationship with a controlling, narcissistic person I am still trying to recover from and get back in touch with my free spirit. If you were in an abusive relationship, the emotional scars usually last longer then the physical ones.
Testimony
I think I have an amazing testimony. I am so blessed. Look at all the people God has used to share their stories with us. Our scars make us who we are. What we choose to do with our story is our choice. I used to hide them. I didn’t like wearing shorts. Bathing suits would be the long skirt kind. Now part of my healing journey was a tattoo cover up. I designed it to still show just a bit at one end (just over an inch). To me, it represents “I may have been ripped apart, but underneath, I am pure stone-strength. You will not break me”. As the flesh is pulled away, you see a vibrant slab of turquoise stone. Turquoise gems represent strength. Plus I have always loved the color!
Trauma
Do I deal with this like its a past trauma? I don’t think so. Some might say anger toward a man whom I have zero relationship with. I don’t know him, so I feel like you don’t miss what you don’t know. My journey has led me to being a lifelong seeker of truth. I knew from a young age I was here for something greater. I can walk and breath and am alive for a reason. God is my father and I will tell my story to all who will listen. What story do your scars tell?