Scars

Scars

During a period of time prior to my marriage when I was trying to flaunt my independence, I decided I could handle everything entirely on my own. I was moving from one apartment to another and would not allow anyone to help me load furniture. I was going to load the glass top of my kitchen table into the back seat of my small Honda Accord and take it to my new apartment--all by myself! I carried it down a flight of stairs and made it to the parking lot, but when I got to my car, I realized the door was locked. I propped the glass table top on my foot to dig my keys out of my pocket, and was quite proud of my progress thus far! I got my door unlocked and began to gently slide the huge piece of glass into the back seat when everything--including the glass--fell apart! Apparently, I bumped the edge of the glass on the inside of the door frame at the just the right--or just the wrong--angle and CRRRRACK!!!!!!! The huge piece of glass split right down the middle! The oval shaped table top immediately became two gigantic shards of glass and one sliced the inside of my right wrist open like a hot knife through a stick of butter! The parking lot must’ve looked like a crime scene to the apartment dwellers who came home later that evening as there was broken glass and pools of blood everywhere! (In an odd twist, I was working as a counselor in a psychiatric hospital at the time and had to conduct counseling sessions with my wrist bandaged! It took a great deal of explanation at work before I was allowed to do my job!)

Many years have passed since my stubborn encounter with foolishness and glass table tops, yet I still carry a scar on the inside of my right wrist. It has faded with time, but it is still there. Sometimes when I notice that scar, I laugh a little when I remember how silly it was of me to not allow anyone to help me. Sometimes I remember how awkward it was to try to explain the injury to my employer. Nevertheless, no matter what I remember when I see the scar, I always know the wound is healed.

There is no doubt your infertility has caused scars. Some may be physical scars from surgeries you’ve endured in an attempt to correct the failures of a faulty reproductive system. The more painful wounds are the invisible ones--the scars on your wounded heart. Maybe some scars are old, some are more recent. Does your heart bear the scars of hurtful words, spoken out of ignorance, but injuring just the same? Another birthday without a baby cuts like a knife. Baby shower invitations make scars like paper cuts across the surface of your heart. Perhaps your scars run deeper. Have your heart and soul been wounded by the loss of your precious baby? What do you remember when you see the scars infertility has tattooed on your heart?

The Bible is an amazing love story to each of us who has ever felt the sting of baby hunger. It is the Word of a God who fully understands what it feels like to want a child to come into His family. He also understands what the death of a child feels like. Remember, His Child died too. If you are nursing wounds today, and you carry scars from infertility’s hand, please allow me the privilege of sharing a couple of passages of Scriptures with you. Psalm 34:18 says The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. If you are hurting because your womb and nursery remain silent, know that God is near. When you feel you will collapse under the weight of an empty cradle, envision the God of the universe rushing to your side to bear the weight for you . Psalm 147:3 says “He (the Lord) heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” If you feel wounded by infertility today, know that the Lord is working to bind your wounds. The Great Physician takes His place at your bedside to brush away your tears and bind your wounds. Even if you cannot sense His presence, God promises to be near to you, ever working, ever binding the wounds, ever healing the hurts of His child.

There’s an interesting thing about scars. When you look at them, what do you see? You can see a scar as a reminder that you’ve been wounded, or you can see them as a reminder that you’ve been healed. You can remember the hurt and the pain of the injury that caused the scar, or you can remember the healing and the restoration you’ve experienced. How will you choose to look at the scars of infertility? Will you choose to remember all the hurtful days and nights when tears flooded your face and your arms were achingly empty, or will you choose to remember that God Himself walked beside you through each and every experience? Will you choose to allow infertility to cause a chasm to grow between you and God, or will you choose to allow this difficult season to be the catalyst for a stronger relationship between you and the One who truly understands the hurts your heart carries? Your scars can be a magnificent vehicle for your testimony of healing to another who comes behind you bearing similar scars.

What will you remember when you view your scars?