“I guess it’s about whether you wear your scars, or your scars wear you.”

That is a powerful statement.

We all have scars, some we see, some we can’t. All of our scars tell stories. This one on my hand tells the story of a cat scratch. That scar on her face tells the story of falling off a sled. That on his stomach of surgery. That of a vicious dog bite.

But what about the scars we can’t see? Ah, they too tell their stories, even if those scars are invisible to the naked eye.

Our memories hold scars of not receiving an invitation to the party, of having been fired from our first job, of broken promises, of belittlement. Invisible scars tell the stories of a miscarriage of justice or pregnancy.

In our DNA there are scars that predispose us to a disease like hypertension or breast cancer. Our DNA holds the scars of alcoholism or dementia. Surrounding our DNA is our epigenetic material that holds the scars of our ancestors. Scars of slavery, scars of religious persecution, of shunning, of utter loneliness.  Our soul’s scars, etched by victimization of what was done to us, moan in pain.

Yet, the scars of perpetration, of what we did to others are ugly red, angry, pulsating disfigurements. The scars of how we slighted, harmed, abandoned, bullied, revenged, retaliated, lied, screwed over, and persecuted others are engraved on our souls.  

Only forgiveness of our deeds, by ourselves, through the complete humbled sincerity of soul-wrenching remorse can heal those scars. Absolution is a real thing. Are you ready?