Beautiful Scars

This has been a hard few weeks. It's been hard for loved ones in the midst of serious struggle, hard for me as a helpless spectator to their pain.

I was washing my hair a few days ago and noticed again the white scars dotting my hands.  I remember the origin of most. On my right ring finger is a faint scar below the nail from the time my dog shot passed me in yellow-labrador-torpedo fashion, pulling me through some icy gravel.  I have a small triangle gouge on my arm from a friend's protective cockatiel. It is an unfriendly bird.  There's a line on my right hand from when I was a new Young Life leader trying to make friends with kids, and fell prey to an alphabet scratching "mercy game". Chicken-pock scars, cuts from chopping vegetables, burn marks from an oven door... my scars are fairly insignificant.

Yet it occurred to me that scars are a special gift. They mean we've survived something (like a cockatiel attack).  Even acne scars are a reminder that we survived adolescence.  They are reminders of surgery healed, of sickness overcome, of a wounding survived. I see the scar on a chest and know that a heart attack did not win. I remember the emergency C-section scar and rejoice in the baby's life saved.

The skin has recovered. It is no longer flawless, but in healing has become stronger, more resilient and unyielding.  Perhaps this makes us more stiff and sore. Perhaps it changes our appearance in a way we think is ugly. But the scar means we have survived.

This week, my awareness of hardship and uncertainty is more acute than usual. No amount of planning and insulation, cleanliness and good living will prevent struggle from intersecting our lives. I know this world is an uncertain place, and this week it's hit a little closer to my heart.

Ours is a painful world, a wounded and fallen place.  But I am reminded of another set of scars, set deep in the wrists of One who took all this world's pain on His own shoulders... and survived. "In this world you will have trouble, but take heart! I have overcome the world!"

By His wounds, we are healed. Beautiful Scars.

Ironing Board Songs

On Sunday, the choir sung a favorite hymn of mine. It's one of the songs I used to sing to myself while working as a house manager. A memory of ironing napkins in the basement laundry accompanies the lyrics whenever I chance to hear them.

I love that these songs are in my head. I hope that if I grow old and forgetful, these songs will stay with me. Here are a smattering of lyrics that renew me, and maybe you too...

"Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side. Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to your God to order and provide. In every change, he faithful will remain.


Your God does undertake to guide the future as he has the past.

Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake; all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know his voice..."

"Behold the man upon a cross, my sin upon his shoulders. Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers. It was my sin that held him there, until it was accomplished. His dying breath has brought me life. I know that it is finished."

"What language may I borrow, to thank thee, dearest friend?

O make me yours forever, and should I fainting be-- Lord, let me never, never outlive my love for thee."

"No guilt in life, no fear in death; this is the power of Christ in me.

 No power of hell, no scheme of man, can ever pluck me from his hand. 'Til he returns or calls me home, here in the love of Christ I stand.

"Why lies he in such mean estate, where ox and ass are feeding? For sinners here, the silent Word is pleading. Nails, spear shall pierce him through, the cross be borne for me, for you.

All hail the Word made flesh, the babe, the Son of Mary.

"Holy Holy Holy, All the saints adore thee, casting down their golden crowns. Blessed Trinity!

"O the deep, deep Love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!

"He breaks the power of canceled sin. He sets the prisoner free. His blood can make the foulest clean.

His blood availed for me.

"Christ has regarded my helpless estate, and has shed his own blood for my soul.

"Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, 
the clouds be rolled back as a  

scroll.  
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend. 

It is well with my soul." 

I guess I'm showing a penchant for older, minor key hymns. But the words make the gospel so fresh to me. They remind me I am forgiven, protected, secured, loved and pursued --all beyond condition and circumstance. He is a wonderful God who offers himself to us. There are none like Him.

I was glad to be reminded again.

Hold Sway or Be Swayed

I had a plan for my day. It included writing this blog, updating my website and working on a painting.  But while I was making breakfast, I opened an email asking if I could deliver a painting in the next hour.  A client was at an appointment in the north (meaning north of her home) and since she was so close, could I meet up for the transaction?

What did I do? Did I feign missing the email, belatedly apologizing and asking if we could reschedule a time that was more convenient for me? Did I say that I needed more notice?

Nope.

I choked down my breakfast, dressed hurriedly and hopped in the car to trek 45 minutes south to the "convenient" location.

On the way I started reflecting on my behavior. Why did I drop all my plans to meet with this retired grandmother at her convenience while greatly inconveniencing myself?

Because of Sway.

She holds Sway, and I sway. In this instance, the sway is a paycheck. My business is struggling to stay afloat, and I can't pass up the chance at finally getting paid.  My swaying is pure, mercenary survival.

But I realized that I sway a lot.  I've swayed into apologies even when the other party was in error because there was no other way to restore the peace.  I've swayed into silencing my opinion in the face of strong personalities in order to maintain the relationship. I've swayed into uncomfortable commitments for fear of disappointing a community leader. Even the state of my struggling business, isn't it the result of swaying into unpaid invoices for the sake of maintaining friendships?

It occurred to me that maybe our world is full of these Sway Holders and Swayers. The "Holders" have the power of personality and charisma, they run the show. Political parties, families, social gatherings are determined by their dynamism and ideas. But bring two such "Holders" in a room together, and civil war may ensue. So the "Swayers" act as buffers between them. They provide the cushion of a following and keep the peace.

It's too simplistic a formula, of course.  I think most of us have both tendencies in our nature,  neither one  is all good or all bad, and our positions of hold or sway are largely situational. But beware falling too much in one camp.

Those who always dominate and require their own way, who keep people waiting and break rules when it benefits them, who never give-in and never admit fault have an unbearable weakness of pride and selfishness. They are more tolerated than loved. And those of us who sway into being overly accommodating reveal an unhealthy dependence on pleasing others. We can be bitter, resentful, passive aggressive and insincere.

All of this was a heart-check on the way to this morning's  meeting. The insincerity of my behavior bothered me most.  In my actions, I appeared gracious, kind and giving, but my heart was spewing resentment and private indignation.

I have a lot to learn about when to sway and when to hold fast.