Have you ever been around a group of old men when the subject of wounds and scars comes up? The stories are quite animated and soon they’re rolling up their sleeves and pantlegs showing some nasty scars and laughing loudly at how they acquired them. Men love telling those stories. The welder shows some nasty burns, the machinists has some nasty cuts, and the carpenter is missing a finger. Generally the scars are from making some brief bad judgment. Motorcycles, bicycles, ski’s, you name it, we’ve crashed them and have the stories and marks to prove it. The pain was bad but we wouldn’t trade the scars for anything. Doctors were rarely consulted and we still survived. Old bodies have a lot of experience and the scars to show they’ve lived. worked, and played hard. Those old bodies are proudly beat up.
The most uncomfortable person in the room is the poor fellow with no scars,no stories, an unlived life. This chap played it safe and never risked anything or got hurt. He chose protecting himself as the greatest priority, whether from selfishness or cowardice. He probably didn’t want to get his shoes scuffed up and likely lived a comfortable soft life.
I wonder if we were to view the other part of ourselves, our spirit. If we were telling old man stories with Jesus, what would our souls look like? The part that only God can see. Do we have scars from serving him? Did we take crazy risks while others just stood by? Those ways we tried to serve Him and got burned. The times that either we messed up or someone took advantage of us. The scars of someone lashing back at us for standing up for Jesus. The burns from being used by a fake Christian. Stitches from being tore up over the martyrs getting beheaded in Africa and the Middle East. The scrapes from our own mistakes, our attempts and bungles. The smashed hands from being made to feel small when we cant answer someone’s hard questions.
Or would we be more like the chap who played it safe. The fellow that has an unwounded soul. The untested soul that risked nothing and avoided any danger. No stories to tell. The awkwardness from the silence from you and only Jesus able to show His wounds that He got from giving it all.
A tombstone shows a beginning date, a dash, and the end date. Everyone reading this is in the dash, the living part. Are you wasting the dash chasing more junk for the house, our bodies or the garage? Living solely for your personal comfort and gratification. Or are you getting out there taking risks and getting scars and stitches? Its risky to follow Jesus and Scripture tells us that the world will hate us. A true follower will get plenty of spiritual scars, but I want to tell Jesus all about my scars and why my spirit is so beaten up. My eyes tear up imagining Him telling me about His scars and wounds, and how He was all in for me too. I don’t want to be silent.
Go ding up your spirit friends. Take those risks and survive those wounds. We really aren’t here long anyway. Don’t let Jesus see that you weren’t all in for Him.