Our apple tree has a problem: we have been coping with a codling moth infestation for a
couple of years now.  Because I don’t like using pesticides and because this prolific little
tree always produces more fruit than we can possibly use, we simply put up with the pests
and discard any badly damaged fruit.  However, when we want to share our apples with
others, I find myself launching into a long explanation of what has happened to the apples
they are about to take home.

You see, the apples look fantastic.  They might have a small scar on one side, but often that
old wound is hidden at the end of the apple, leading the observer to believe that the apple was
left untouched by the pests.  The evidence of the moth’s attack lies inside the apple, at the
core.  The apples are still wonderful to eat; you just have to work around that damaged
central part.  Sometimes the scar is large and the damage is slight, but often the wound left
by the bugs is hardly visible but the core is seriously flawed.

Our own scars are like that.  There are noticeable, even terrible, physical scars that serve as
reminders of old wounds, but the person’s character and spirit remain intact – perhaps
even strengthened by what went before.  A bone is sometimes stronger in the area of an old
break and the skin of a scarred area may be thicker and tougher.  Trauma can bring us closer
to God, closer to our loved ones and closer to ourselves.  Our faith deepens in response to
the event and the scar becomes a reminder, nothing more.

Other wounds leave less obvious scars, but greater damage in their wake.  Like those
seemingly perfect apples, the façade looks great, but the core, the essence, of that person is
badly damaged.  The spirit of the person is blemished and changed, but there are few, if any
outward signs of their internal pain for us to observe.  These are scars that weaken, not
strengthen.  Faith is shaken, relationships are broken and confidence is shattered, but the
casual observer will see only a person who seems distant, withdrawn or even unfriendly.  
Their lives, their bodies, their loved ones or even God has let them down and they are not
going to get hurt again.

While we would never consider coldly discarding the scarred people in our lives like damaged
fruit, we sometimes distance ourselves from their pain, emotionally abandoning them because
they are uncomfortable to be around.  But just as our loving Father embraces us, loves us and
forgives us despite our flaws and our scars, we are called to reach out to the wounded in our
lives with love, forgiveness and compassion.   It can be difficult to see past that well-
maintained façade, certainly, and we may never know the origin of the hurt that has been
causing such emotional scarring, but we can gently embrace the damaged people we work
with, worship with or live with.  We are not necessarily responsible for their healing, for
there are others who may be better suited to that task, but God has put us in their lives for a
reason:  to let them know that they are loved, by us and most vitally, by God.  Jesus, after his
death on the cross and resurrection, bore visible signs of the trauma of his crucifixion.  His
wounds, his scars, are a lasting reminder of the price that was paid for our redemption and
they are a symbol of the greatest love ever shown mankind.

Therefore, it is not the scar itself that is at issue; it is how we care for those who are scarred
by life until their wounds are healed forever by God.   As it is stated in 1Peter5:10-11,
"10And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have
suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.
11To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen."
(NIV)

©2008 Elizabeth Williams
Scars

11 My friends and companions avoid me because of
my wounds; my neighbors stay far away. Psalm 38:11
(NIV)

24He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so
that we might die to sins and live for righteousness;
by his wounds you have been healed. 1 Peter 2:24
(NIV)