Let Me Tell You a Story – Scars


Chatting with my daughter a few weeks back and she told me of her friend that is a new parent.  The young couple  are dedicated to providing a safe and loving environment for their baby to grow up in.

Maybe too safe? 

You see, my daughter spoke of this little baby having a walking helmet.  Yes, a walking helmet.  Their little one is starting to venture to the vertical method of travelling, but the parents, in all good intentions (I think) are seeking to protect their little one from bumps and scrapes.

Is this wise? Does past experience teach us the wisdom of being overly protective?

When my grandbabies come over, I wrestle with them, throw them over my head, tickle em till they are crying and swing them around to make them fearless, instead of fearful. When they (and I) are dizzy and stumble, even fall down, I distract them from any pain they may experience. (Of course if there is blood squirting, or a bone sticking out, I will call the mama – I’m not that heartless!!!)

If they inadvertently experience a bit of pain, I see it as a necessary experience in life, and that protecting them from all pain is actually detrimental to their successful voyage through life.

It’s funny when I think of my grandbabies, when they come over, that grampa is the neighborhood toy to play with, and they know the treatment they will get, the rough and tumble playtime, the chasing and wrestling, the tossing about, and yet they seek it, look for the “scary”, dangerous(?) and goofy fun

Folks, I am persuaded that scars build character, and that without some scarring in this life, it becomes obvious there is no battle being fought, no cause to seek for, no purpose in the existence granted to us.

This “safety first” consciousness that is so pervasive in our society speaks of a pampered, indulgent society, of comfort and ease at all cost, and the loss of a will to fight for anything.

You might think I am taking a minor item like walking helmets and blowing it up out of all proportion, and you may be right. Each parent has to determine their philosophy of child rearing and mine isn’t perfect, but my adult children are fighters, and they don’t give up after a disappointment. Each of them have had major setbacks in their lives and yet they are fighting to make the best of it, instead of sitting in a pity puddle, crying about how unfair life is.

Scars are evidence of a fight, of a battle fought, of a character being formed, even at very early ages.

As we grow into adults, (and even grampas!), the scarring may take many different forms, but each scar gives evidence of character. Character that is formed from adversity, (not prosperity) from suffering (not comforts) and from struggles (not a life of ease!)

The greatest scarring I can think of are the marks the Lord Jesus carries, even as He is praying for us in our battles. Jesus showed His disciples his hands and side, proving it was He that spoke and not some ephemeral spirit, but a flesh and bone resurrected man.

He fought for us, and for the glory and love of God. His scars give evidence of this.

What scars are you carrying?

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