The One with the Battle Scars

A few years back I had a medical scare. The doctors were concerned that the combination of a family history of skin cancer, the amount of time I spent outdoors in Central America growing up, and a suspicious freckle on my chest, that my potential for cancer was great and that I needed a biopsy. After the decision was made, and the procedure done following all the guidelines, a few weeks later it became evident that I was going to have a raised pink scar on my chest for the rest of my life. The doctor was devastated for me seeing as I was unmarried and now “maimed.” I, however, was delighted! I love scars. Battle wounds: they tell the story of your life, add character, and remind you to be careful in your future choices.

That October, my eyes were opened to how stuck in life I was. After going through some serious soul searching, I came to the conclusion that in order to move forward in my life, I needed to deal with my past. And that process started with evaluating my present. As I started peeling away the layers physically and mentally, throwing away boxes of stuff in my house, recognizing lies that I had believed, validating feelings and getting wise counsel on them, I realized that it was way harder to the peel the layers back and throw them away then I thought it would be. Then epiphany struck… I had created a giant scar out of life for myself. The items (both in a mental and physical sense) that I had placed around myself as a protection, had turned into a prison. What if I forgive and it washed away the scar in my life that reminds me to be careful, to be guarded, that I have been loved, that I have been hurt. What could trusting do for my life.

Well maybe if forgivness WOULD actually wash away that scar, I could be free to be open and vulnerable. To love freely again. To give myself completely to others again. To not be guarded.

What if I cleared away all the clutter out of my life? What if I went into something unprepared. Maybe then I could allow others to step up and be the hero. To see my weakness and pick up my slack.

And so it started slowly, one closet cleaned out, one drawer organized, one more box to the dumpster, one more pound lost, one more person forgiven, one more resentment let go. And I realized a funny thing… this process that felt so scary in the beginning, has actually turned out to be the most freeing journey of my life!