Scarred for Life
Dave Faust
I have my share of scars. Little ones, mostly, caused by competing in sports when I was young.
Basketball left me with a mark above my eye, a crooked index finger, and assorted scars on my knees. The curved, inch-long scar on my left arm came from a softball game. (My teammates applauded my courage because they thought I was spiked while tagging out a runner at second base. Actually I was scratched by a wire fence while trotting off the field, but I never bothered to set the record straight!)
The scar on my elbow? I got that one when I was 14, showing off for a friend by "fishtailing" my bicycle on a road covered with loose gravel. It was hard to explain the accident to my mother when I arrived home with a torn shirt and a badly dented bike. I still feel a bit embarrassed when I see the scar and remember the impulsive act that caused it.
Once in awhile I meet people who appear to have no scars. Do you know the kind I mean? In public and private, they seem to have it all together. Every hair in place. Every "i" dotted, every "t" crossed. Everything flawlessly executed as if they were pilots following a perfect flight plan. Next to them, the rest of us look like the Wright brothers, just hoping to get our planes off the ground.
Truth is, even those "perfect" folks have scars, and not just the kind clothes and makeup can cover. The longer I live, the more I realize we all have some scars on our souls too. Even the beautiful people have said things they regret, made decisions they wish they could reverse, and endured hardships others don't know about.
The Lord knows all about it. Nothing is hidden from his sight—nothing in all creation! Since everything is "uncovered and laid bare" before his all-knowing eyes (Hebrews 4:13), he sees past the nice clothes and polite smiles to the real condition of our hearts. Without him, we're all "harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd" (Matthew 9:36). Sheep wear wool, not armor. No amount of wool can keep sheep from getting hurt in this tough world, or keep the Lord from seeing the scars.
What scars do you bear? Did someone say hurtful words to you when you were young that still make you flinch when you remember them? Have you made foolish choices you wish you could undo? Do you regret causing pain to those you care about most—your children, your friends, even your Lord?
Shakespeare wrote, "He jests at scars, that never felt a wound." In the Bible, I don't find anybody joking about scars. Moses the lawgiver, David the psalmist, and Solomon the proverb-writer all fell off their spiritual bicycles more than once. Paul endured a thorn in the flesh; and even with all his talk about God's grace, the great apostle still occasionally recalled his pre-Christian days with tones of remorse and called himself the worst of sinners. Yet, Paul didn't wallow in self-pity or cover up his weaknesses to impress others. Instead, he saw that his weaknesses were the very areas where God could best demonstrate his divine strength and grace (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).
We won't find healing for our souls by looking too long at our scars. Thomas found the answer when he looked at the nail-scarred hands and feet of Someone else who had endured the wounds of injustice and ill-treatment. Jesus was scarred for life—for your life, that is, and mine. And his grace makes all the difference.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Nov 14, 1999.
Where Satan Has His Throne
Westminster Abbey in London houses a high-backed armchair carved from oak known as the Coronation Chair. Built by a carpenter named Walter of Durham around A.D. 1300, the throne has been used by British monarchs for more than seven centuries, including King Charles III who sat on it during his coronation in 2023. The Coronation Chair is one of the most famous pieces of furniture in the world, representing the office, dignity, and authority of the royal family. Not everyone has treated the chair with respect, though. In the 18th and 19th centuries, children and visitors wrote their names and other graffiti on the back of it, and one tourist carved “P. Abbott slept in this chair 5-6 July 1800” on the seat.
Searching for the Third Place
In *The Great Good Place* (Paragon House, 1991), Ray Oldenburg suggests that most adults organize their lives around three places. The first place is the home, where words like wife, husband, mother, father, parent, and breadwinner express their identity. Next is the workplace, where they find identity in a job title, their professional expertise, and the ebb and flow of the workday. But what is the third place? According to Oldenburg, the third place is the informal setting outside of home and work where your identity is defined simply by who you are as a person, not by what you do for a living or who you count as kin. The third place is a home away from home where friends accept you just as you are.