Disclaimer: There is the possibility that this could be triggering to some. Read with care.
If there is one thing that I’ve learned in almost ten years of struggling with self harm, it’s that some scars fade and some don’t.
In the past nine years, I’ve collected my fair share of scars. Thankfully some of them have faded. But, I can still count around forty or so that I can still see. Some more than others.
I know that others can see some of them. That fact alone used to cause me so much anxiety. I didn’t want people to see them because I didn’t want them to ask me about them. But the more and more that I’ve become an advocate for awareness, the more and more I welcome the question.
My scars used to really bother me. Sometimes they still do. I see them and I recall the days before scars were scattered across my body. Sometimes I forget what my arms looked like before I made that first cut in 2005.
And then it hit me. Or better stated He hit me with His truth.
“I’ve already traded your scars for mine.”
Wow. Talk about a holy moment.
I’ve spent far too much time focused on the negatives of my scars instead of realizing they are already His.
I’ve spent far too much time thinking that blood was the only option I ever had, only to realize that I was right.
Blood is the answer.
Just not mine.
The idea that my scars are worth everything to Him is something I’m not used to.
I know that I still have so much more healing to do in this area of my life.
I’m thankful that each of you have decided to join me in this journey, in whatever capacity.
Recovery will never be finished.
But this story is far from being over.