Yesterday's sermon concluded with this thought: Two things always remain: the scars of what we've been through and the God who has been through all of it with us.
Too often we want to disguise our scars, either because of how others might react or to limit our exposure to our own scars. But, they're there. We know they're there. And, those from whom we would hide our scars have theirs, too. We should know that.
I don't think we're to go around explaining each scar like a trophy or as a means to garner sympathy, but to pretend that they don't exist is to deny part of who we are. Jacob limped away from his wrestling match. He had to explain that to whomever he saw until they knew why he was limping. After that, he limped until, if ever, he didn't, and that was part of who he was.
My thumb scar is part of who I am. Until yesterday's sermon I have rarely told anyone at Central about it. Now some of you know. Nothing to hide. No reason to call attention to it. Not embarrassing or impressive. Just part of what has come together to make me who I am.
You have scars, part of what has come together to make you who you are. What is consistent between Jacob's limp, my thumb, and your scars (physical and emotional) is that we weren't alone when we received our injuries, during the healing, or at whatever point in the healing process we are now. Two things always remain: the scars of what we've been through and the God who has been through all of it with us.