“Life brings surgeries, scars, and seasons of uncertainty but scriptures remind us to ‘give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.’ Gratitude isn’t about ignoring pain, but about seeing God’s hand in the middle of it.”
Scars are something that we all carry, though they come in different shapes and forms. Some scars are easy to see, while others are buried deep inside. For me, my scars come from surgeries, more than a few over the years. Each one left its mark on my body, but also on my spirit. And while I used to see them only as reminders of pain, I now see them as part of my walk with God.
Before surgery, many people feel anxious or afraid. For me though, I’ve always had peace. I may not know exactly what will happen during those hours, but I’ve never been overcome with fears or doubts. Deep down, I’ve always known that God would see me through. I trusted that He was guiding the doctors, steadying their hands, and watching over me the whole time.
And just before the anesthesia takes hold, I always think about my favorite Christian artist, Rich Mullins, and his song “Hold Me Jesus.” The lyrics drift through my mind as if I am singing them to myself: “Hold me Jesus, I’m shaking like a leaf. You have been my King of glory; won’t You be my Prince of Peace?” That prayer in song always settles my spirit. Even when I’m lying on the operating table, I feel wrapped in His presence, reminded that Jesus is both my King and my Prince of Peace.
When I wake up from surgery, groggy and weak, the first feeling I have is gratitude. Gratitude that I made it through. Gratitude for the medical team who used their skills to bring healing. Gratitude of the many prayer warriors that have been there for me. Gratitude for God, who delivered me safely. It’s healing to realize that even when I was completely helpless, lying under anesthesia, God never left me.
Over time, as the stitches healed the scars began to form. Some are small and faint, thin white lines that fade into my skin like whispers of the past. Others are longer and deeper, reminders of the surgeon’s careful work. At first, I didn’t like looking at them, they felt like ugly marks of weakness. But now, I see them differently. Each scar tells a story of survival, of healing, and of God’s faithfulness.
I often think of Jesus after the resurrection, when He showed His disciples the scars in His hands and side. In John 20:27 He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” Jesus didn’t hide His scars. Instead, He used them as proof of His love and sacrifice. If Jesus carried His scars into glory then perhaps mine can be reminders too, not of the pain but of the healing that followed.
Now, when I look at my scars, I don’t just see what I went through. I see what God brought me through. My scars are not flaws to be hidden, but testimonies to God’s power, the skill of the doctors He placed in my path, and the strength He gave me in my weakest moments, As Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
I have scars, but I also have grace. And for that, I am thankful.
“Lord, thank you for turning my scars into testimonies. May they always remind me of Your healing, Your grace, and Your unfailing presence. Amen.”
Vickie Jenkins is a staff writer and photographer for several Oklahoma publications. She is a member of Oklahoma City, Quail Springs.
