Invisible scars

At the beginning of June last year, I had my wrist and arm operated on. Basically, one of my arm bones was too long, making it rub on my wrist, so they shortened the bone and fixed the soft tissue in my wrist. Now, I have a large metal plate and seven screws in my arm. When I explain this to the inquirers, they’re pretty horrified. I think that many of them regret asking because, well, it’s not the nicest thing to think about. Honestly, the five inch long scar confirms their fears. When I tell them that I haven’t had any lasting pain, they don’t believe me. The scar is too big, and the story is too scary, apparently.


In comparison, I got my shoulder operated on around four years ago. There was no metal involved, and I only have two small scars. I usually have to point them out. In fact, they’re almost unnoticeable. Sure, the scars are small, but the pain was one hundred times worse than my recent operation. I wouldn’t wish shoulder surgery on my greatest enemy-seriously. This less invasive surgery was extremely painful, but you would never know by looking at the size of the scars.

A little over three years ago, my boyfriend of almost three years decided to leave me. I have no scar to show anyone. There is nothing visible about me to show the pain and depression that I went through grieving someone who was still alive and happier without me. I asked God to operate on my shoulder again rather than lose my best friend. I knew that I could endure all of the physical pain, but the pain that no one could see or understand was too great to bear on my own.

Through all of this, God has reminded me that scars tell only a portion of the story. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that your scars aren’t big enough. The “someone always has it worse” line is a lie to keep you from healing. No one can look at you and accurately tell what hurt the most, what kept you up at night, what made you not want to live another day, and kept you from eating. It would take time for someone to sit down and care before they truly knew you, scars and all.

I’m so thankful that He’s continuing to heal my scars as He helps me through unexpected pain-which ultimately pushes me towards growth. Let me tell you friends, even in the worst circumstances, there is an abounding hope when you know that you serve a God who comes down into the valley with you. These years have taught me that Jesus died to heal, and in my case, healing was of the upmost importance from a scar that no one could see.