Life orbits this scar; self inflicted, etched by my own hand, the consequence of my choice.
This monument of torn flesh, revealed when the dust settles and completed after all is said and done, the tangible reminder that I’m not who I want to be.
I can remedy this scar as well as I can recover a lost moment or turn a gray hair dark again.
Living with this frantic desire to hide it and this overwhelming need to reveal it, it fights for possession of my heart, assails my spirit, binds my soul in chains.
This scar. My Scar. A defining mark. The lasting reminder.
He placed His scarred hand over this scar, my scar, this monument to who I have become.
His scar swathes my own.
Life orbits his scar, this chosen exchange, etched by my own hand, the consequences of my choice.
This monument to his torn flesh, revealed the third day, after the dust settled, completed by the words “it is finished”, the tangible reminder that because He is, I am.
His scar is redemption, making all things new.
Living with a quite desire for deeper intimacy and an overwhelming need to share this love, my heart is free, my spirit at peace, my soul, unbound.
This scar. His scar. The defining mark. An everlasting reminder.
Wow, thanks, Jim.
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