Scars

A line from one of my favorite songs recently is:

"Covered with scars I did nothing to earn.
Maybe somewhere there's a lesson to learn."

I think there's so much, just in that.

I've always loved having scars. I have one on my wrist that I'm particularly fond of, and one on my knee as well. They've all got stories behind them. I have one on my finger from when a friend sliced me with a razor blade while we were scraping paint off a board in high school. I have one just next to my eye where my dog bit me when I was little. I have one just under my eyebrow that helps me to know where my brow line goes when I pluck my eyebrows. The list goes on.

However, I think at some point in our lives, we all feel that we have scars we did nothing to earn. Sometimes, bad things just happen to good people. It's one of life's great mysteries.

I've blogged about this many times. You've read them before. It's nothing new. Find a way to be happy. Look for the good in things. Trust in the Lord. Have faith.

I'm not sure that I know of a new way to write it. Maybe later in the week I'll come across an experience that allows me to relate the idea somehow, and then I'll write about it.

But for now, I can't help but think of those scars. I never asked for them, but got them anyway. The problem with scars is, they never go away. Sure, they may fade a bit over time, but they're always with you. You can always see it, and sometimes you can even still feel it. And there's the irony.

I love being able to see and feel my physical scars. However, I could do without those others, but they seem to be the ones that we all feel and see the most. The trick is, finding a way to stop cutting the wound back open. All it does is make a deeper scar, in the end.

I hate sad blog posts. I hate whiney blog posts, and I hate blog posts that make me feel pathetic.

Looks like I hate this blog post.