Bones and Scars

If there ever was a family that knew about broken bones and scars, it would be ours.

Between us, we've had surgeries and stitches. We've had casts and broken bones and steri-strips. We've wrecked cars, fallen on pavement and into coffee tables, had metal drilled from eyes, broken windows, removed large splinters. We've been run over by bicycles and fallen off decks.

I cannot help but be proud of scars. We call them "battle scars" around here, because they all have good stories. Each scar represents some crazy time in our life or another.

A cast was removed yesterday. After two months... eight weeks today.

I am thankful for our bodies' ability to heal.

I am more thankful that we serve a God creative enough to give us scars so we'd remember.

Remember the lessons learned during recovery. Remember that pain does not always last. That our bodies are not immortal, but are entirely imperfect.

And that, in the end, He will get us through.