About once a week, I have a semi-breakdown. It could be based on a variety of things. I hate the way my hair looks, a kid is mean, I get a dirty look from someone, I feel insecure, I am insecure, a movie feels like real life... you know? The usual :) About a month ago, after 4 scrapes of moles on my legs, I got a phone call from the doctor's office to inform me that at least two of those would have to be removed even more so and this time it would involve stitches. I reviewed in my last blog all the connotations that the word stitches includes in my mind: namely blood. I just don't do blood. Anyhow, after I recovered from all this madness, I realized that maybe my biggest fear wasn't that I had moles that could be cancerous in the future or even the stitches and my potential of passing out through my mental and visual sense of blood.
My biggest fear was that I would have multiple, visible scars on my legs.
Dramatically, I imagined the doctor would slice my leg wide open (at least 10 inches) and remove all the tissue, sew it back up, tell me I was fine but that I would have a huge white scar across my, once very tanned from the sun, legs. I was mortified at this thought. I know you're thinking, "How arrogant and conceited of you!" and rightfully so. It was very arrogant, very self-seeking, very conceited, very self-centered, very ME. At the end of the day, I am sinful and deceptive and just plain mean and this is one of the characteristics that allows SIN to show up in my life and to parade itself among the crowd.
I realized that the less than one inch scars that I actually now have are a visible sign of my inward ME-ness. They are a visible sign of a wretched past, deep regrets, painful memories and unswallowed pride. They are a visible sign of my inward ugly thoughts, a life fantasized but not real, a longing deep for something that someone else has, and a sign of my deepest insecurities-- including the way I look.
I struggled so much with a sense of self in middle school and high school. With a haircut and a small change of style, I received a good bit of attention at the end of 8th grade and moving into 9th grade. I allowed my physical beauty and looks to become a slave to boys who would compliment and stutter. I focused on how I could get their attention. I imagined the conversations I would carry on with them. They were not real. The attention that I got was not positive in the long run but only allowed me to become captive to being a people pleaser and worry. I worried about what others thought of me while attempting in some sort of way to please them with the way I looked, the facial expressions I presented, and the conversations I carried on with others. I bought into the lie that the only way I was beautiful was if someone told me so verbally. My sense of self was carried on the shoulders of boys who would smile at me and talk to my sister about wanting to date me. This was a very false sense of security but it continues to eat at the very core of who I am. It is another place that Satan lies to me the the most.
I don't have to find my security in others... my security alone is in Jesus. The moment I doubt that is the moment that Satan steps in to remind me of the un-beautiful parts of me. Believe me, there are many and there are deep scars that Jesus continues to recover and restore and heal but really that is the beautiful thing... a Jesus who doesn't give up on making me beautiful. One who bore nails on a cross and accepted nails in His hands creating scars that cannot be taken away. If it weren't for His scars, however, I wouldn't have the opportunity to be beautiful or redeemed. So may my scars be a deep, solid reminder of His, once again, sweet faithfulness to me. May your scars do the same. -Melissa
"God's nature is spurred by His goodness, not our worthiness." -Max Lucado
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