Scars

We all have them somewhere on our bodies. They are evidence of clumsy mistakes or irresponsible actions. Some serve as a reminder of surgical triumph. Some serve as a reminder of a very bad day.

They sprawl across your skin in discolored patches or irregular shapes. They are flaws upon your skin. Honestly, they are none too pretty.

But, though they never completely disappear, they do tend to fade away with time. One day, even the angriest of scars upon your skin will become unnoticed. Yes, it is still visible, but has now become such a part of you that you no longer remember its existence…until someone asks you, “Hey, how’d you get that scar? What happened to ya?”

These, of course, are physical scars of which I speak. There are other kinds, too--emotional scars. Even the hardest of hearts, have been scarred by some type of disappointment or loss.

Like physical scars, these will also heal and fade over time. And just like the physical type, they will become nearly forgotten by us…until someone asks, “Hey, why don’t you trust anyone? Why are you so cold? Why are you so afraid? What happened to ya?”

Here upon my knees are scars resulting from an adventure this past summer. On June 17, 2006, I reached high above my head and attempted to pull myself up a slick rock wall into the mouth a slot canyon in southern Utah. I was too short to reach the rock grip that most people around me had reached with no problem. With a little encouragement, and a push and pull from friends, I was clinging to the slick rock wall (that happens to be called slick rock for a reason) and pulling myself up into the mouth of the narrow, twisty canyon. I felt my right foot slip and my right knee scraped hard into the rock. In a state of panic, I tried to avoid the fall and awkwardly pressed my body into the rock as closely as I could, gripping and grasping onto whatever I could find. My left knee banged rather firmly into the rock. I felt my body slip a little more before regaining balance enough to pull myself completely up the wall. I felt the flesh on my knees tear open and burn as blood started to trickle down my lower legs. I felt as if I had slid down a giant roll of dirty, hot sandpaper. I am pretty sure that I winced in pain as I stood atop the high ledge and, most likely, a verse of profanity flowed from my lips.

Then I turned my back to the wall I had climbed and entered the canyon. I was so amazed at the beautiful swirling lines along the glowing red rock and the tight, twisting walls of this canyon that I forgot about my knees’ injuries. For many years, I had dreamed of climbing around a colorful slot canyon and photographing rays of sunlight and they pressed their way to the bottom of the dark maze before me. All I could think of was, wow, I’m really here!

As my wounds began to heal, I complained occasionally about my tight, sore skin. And I complained a lot as I again ripped open my fresh wounds while hiking the Half Dome Trail in Yosemite the following weekend. Today, as I look at my knees, I see two small discolorations that now resemble bruises. They are fading away nicely and eventually I won’t even remember them.

Last week, I wore a skirt that exposed my knees and a friend of mine asked me if I had bruised my knees. “No,” I replied brightly, “That’s my battle wound from the slot canyon…” And I trailed off into my tale of colorful walls and twisted mazes with a huge smile upon my face.

Those scars upon my knees are reminders that I enjoy my life to the fullest and answer the adventures that call my name. I am reminded that, even though I can become afraid, I do not allow fear to hold me in its grip. I am reminded that I make my own dreams come true. I am reminded that I have had wonderful experiences and will likely experience many more wonders in my lifetime.

Now, if only viewing emotional scars in this manner could be so easy. Right now, I am reminded that people aren’t always honest, people aren’t so kind, and with every gain there results an even bigger loss. But I am working on changing this outlook.

Through my scarred view, I can see enough to realize that my heart’s adventures are equivalent to my life’s adventures in bravery, risk, and wonder. Surely this must lead to good things eventually. I think that I will again find honesty, kindness, and a gain that will convince me that all these scars were worth it.

And I believe I will again walk among the fields of gold.