Friday, the physical therapist, measured, cut, then placed a wide strip of industrial strength Rocktape the length of my incision. Puzzled, which is often, Scott informed me,”It’s what we use on professional athletes.”
That’s about as close as I’ll get to being an athlete, amateur or pro.
He told me not to be concerned if it fell off.
I’m assuming he meant the tape.
Not all scars are visible.
Might be better if they were.
Could initiate more kindness, a deeper understanding rooted in, “Me, too.”
Bryan Wilkerson, Senior Pastor of Grace Chapel, set me thinking about scars after listening to his Easter sermon on-line, while nursing my wounds, one visible, most not.
Pastor Bryan said, “Christ could’ve returned scar-free, but he showed up with nail-scarred hands and side, invited Thomas to come close, see and touch.”
In Caravaggio’s famous painting, The Incredulity of St. Thomas,” we see Christ guiding the tentative finger of Thomas into His wounded side, while other disciples look on, wide-eyed wonderers.
I wonder if Christ’s wounded side, or hands twitched, still tender, when Thomas touched those puncture wounds that altered history?
Why didn’t Christ come back perfect, without “spot or blemish”?
Maybe because scars tell stories.
We walk around bearing proof something took place in our lives and left its mark.
Thomas touched and believed.
Then Jesus said to Thomas,”You believe because you have seen me. Blessed are those who haven’t seen me and believe anyway.” (John 20:29 NLT)
Hands on Grace to Thomas, by faith to the rest of us.
That’s what He says.
Even in life’s fogs, unbearable silences, darkest nights, sob-soaked pillows?
Faith enough to come closer, hobbled by scars, loaded with incredulities, to hear Christ’s whisper, inviting our deepest doubts and dirtiest fingers to touch and be touched.
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