Scars

Scars.

We all have them. Some we can see. Some, we can’t. Some we can remember what caused them. Some, we can’t. Some we try to forget about. Some, we never forget.

I have often wondered about her scars. Since the first day we met, in fact. I noticed then and still see the various ones on her precious face, her lip and the little gouges out of her forehead. Her tiny left wrist that is completely wrapped in one and the other similar looking one on the top of her left foot. The “V” shaped raised scar on the top of her right hand. Where did they all come from? Does she remember how she got them? Who was there to hold her or comfort her when she was hurt? Did anyone do anything to make them feel better? Did she get medical care for any of them? So many questions and no answers.

Until tonight.

While we were eating dinner, KK fell off of her chair and landed on her face. A busted lip and lots of tears later, Sophia was trying to comfort KK and showed her the scar on her lip. She told her how she tripped and fell as she ran outside through a door and ended up with that scar. This opened up an entire conversation of how she got all of her scars, which I will not share with the world, as they are not my stories to tell. But I will say, as she told us through her limited English vocabulary and mainly acted out the ways in which she got each one of these scars, my heart was broken all over again in a whole new way for the suffering my precious child went through and still remembers.

I knew those scars had stories. I knew my daughter had 9 years of life before we brought her home, much of it that I will never know about. I knew that there was loss and hurt in her life. But I also know that there was redemption.

The thing about scars is…to get one, it hurts. No matter if it’s a physical hurt or an emotional hurt, a scar comes from hurt, pain, suffering. But the other thing about a scar is…you don’t get one of those until you heal. You may still have the scar that reminds you of the hurt, pain, or suffering that caused it…but a scar means that you’re past it now. You got through it. You survived it. You overcame it. You were healed.

And our child was healed…by the one true Healer! As she told us her painful stories, her eyes lit up, and joy filled the room through her bright smile as she looked to the sky and reached out her hand and told us that Jesus took her hand and saved her. HE was there with her, in the hurt, in the suffering, in the pain. HE was the one there to hold her and comfort her when she was hurt. HE was the one there to make her feel better. HE was the one there to heal her wounds. And he will continue. There are more scars that I will never see, that I may never know exist, but I will love her through them and trust in the one true Healer to bring beauty from the pain as only He can do.