I hurried across campus to get to my new job on time. Oh Texas weather how I loath thee. It was hot as wasabi! I was really not a fan that day since I was “dressed up” for work.
Showing up late on my first day on the clock was not an option. I had prepared everything I needed the night before to ensure I would get to work on time.
Suddenly, somewhere between my thoughts and the ground I slipped and “gracefully” fell in front of the entire university. I’m aware of my exaggeration but that’s exactly how I felt. Oh how much my pride, uh-hum, I mean knee hurt! Oh but don’t worry I showed up to work on time.
Fast forward to a week ago while in Uganda.
The weather was perfect for a morning run: overcast skies with a gentle breeze. I put my headphones on and began running. Listening to music while running always does my spirit well. I usually end my run with a small conversation between me and God.
Today that would not be the case. As I sang “You make beautiful things out of the dust” I lost control of my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from going down. My face made contact with the red dirt of Uganda. I ended up at the feet of the soldiers who saw all of this unfold before them.
I had dust and dirt in my mouth. My knees and elbows were bloody. When I say I ate it, I mean it. I ate Ugandan dirt. “No bueno”. Needless to say, I did not feel this was a beautiful thing.
Two days later I’m with my team, hosting a Beauty for Ashes retreat. I hear the gentle whisper of Holy Spirit tell me “Show them your scars and wounds.”
I show them both of my knees. One has the scar of my fall while in college. The other has the fresh wound from my recent fall.
The wounds we experience in life are not meant to remain a wound. Medication needs to be applied for healing to happen.
That medication is called forgiveness. No one can do it for us. We must choose to apply forgiveness to our wounds. Doing so will release the pain and make way for healing.
After this process unfolds in our lives, and very often it takes multiple times, one day you will look down and see that the wound is no longer a wound but a scar. A beautiful scar with a story to share.
On that hot and sunny day, in a remote village in Uganda, I showed my scars & wounds. Not just the physical ones but the ones in my heart. My redemption process gave the women courage to begin their own story.