It was on odd, perfunctory ending to what had been an opportunity for reconciliation and restoration. After years of dysfunction, I had hoped for more from our relationship. More understanding. More normalcy. More love.
Sometimes, though, healing is slow…laborious…painful. It’s like the scar I bear on the soft underside of my foot where the sharp edge of glass penetrated deep beneath the surface years ago–severing tendons and limiting movement. Now, all that seems to remain of the injury is a rough, jagged line drawn tightly across the skin.
Heart wounds sometimes heal in the same way. Open, festering hurts diminish with time. The balm of forgiveness and gentle doctoring of the Holy Spirit soothes the pain, confusion, and fear. But–the scar still exists.
Maybe the scar remains for a purpose. Maybe, just maybe, the scar reminds me of the One who can and will heal all–if not today, perhaps tomorrow; if not here, then on the other side of heaven.
