Scars and Open Hands

The bad news:

I fell while running.  Straight down, eating pavement.

The good news:

My first thought upon getting up was: well, I’ve got a blog post for today!

The one other time I’ve fallen when I was running, I was able to nail the dismount and do a sort of barrel roll out of the tumble.  Not this time.  We’re talking cobblestone street.  Hit the ground.  Hands and knees break the fall. 

Luckily my stunt was only performed for an audience of one—a nice older gentleman who asked if I was alright and then shouted from afar: “You’ll probably have some nice cherries on there!”…I love cherries.  That’s not what he meant.

After making my way to my feet, confirming that I could indeed walk, and then looking over my shoulder a bunch of times with that “It’s all good, I’m cool” look on my face, I started to feel the sting in my scrapes.  But I had been so excited to spend my quasi-Friday evening (Happy Independence Day!) on a run through the city, and I had just barely started, so I decided to keep going.

The lesson seemed really clear, right?: push through the pain.  When life knocks you down, get back up again and keep going.  What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger—basically everything Kanye and Kelly Clarkson ever taught us about life.

But as I kept running I realized that wasn’t really what the Lord wanted to teach me.  As I pounded the pavement down the River Trail in the Southside, I felt so legit!  Blood spilling from my soon-to-be scars as sweat dripped in to the open wounds (read: the blood was kind of just glistening and then drying there)—I was wearing those scrapes like a badge.  Real runners get bloody and dusty.

Before this had to become a lesson about pride, I realized the significance in the moment.

“And the God of all grace…after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” (1 Peter 5:10)

“Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3-4)

There is beauty in scars.  Suffering accomplishes stuff...strength, firmness, steadfastness, character, hope.  Something happens in pain that makes us more legit (for lack of a better Biblical term).

I remembered Jacob who wrestled with God:

“When the man saw that he could not overpower [Jacob], he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man…Then the man said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.” (Genesis 32:25-28)

Jacob walked with a limp which would remind him of his encounter with God and the way he overcame.

I ran the rest of my route with my palms open to the sky because my hands were bloody and heavy.  It occurred to me that that is what life is: scars and open hands.  I think I try too often to “heal over,” to avoid pain and suffering because I am supposed to be joyful and glad, right??  Holy people don’t hurt.  Praise God whose Spirit grants us joy, but let me not forget that my pain, too, accomplishes glory.

The word of God cuts like a double-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12).  And be careful—sometimes it cuts like a cobblestone street.