3rd Sunday of Lent 2024

I have two physical scars.  The first came from some stupidity from my 12-year-old uncle entrusted with watching 5-year-old me.  At one point he thought it would be funny to lock em out of the house.  Everything was fine until I decided to put my hand through the small glass window on the back door!  He struggled to stop the bleeding coming from multiple cuts on my right hand.  And he definitely had some explaining to do when my parents got home!  I carry a lifelong half inch scar on my right index finger as a reminder.

My second scar was no accident.  That was the work of a surgeon to remove my thyroid after having been diagnosed with cancer in 2006.  The scar is barely noticeable, but it's there.  The surgery and subsequent treatment were successful and, as I write this 18 years later, I'm cancer free.

Those are my visible scars.  They each tell a story, one of the poor judgment of an uncle and the other of a medical success.  As I look back at those scars, they say something else.  I can either look back with criticism for my stupid uncle's poor judgment, and question "why me?" as to why and how I got cancer at age 47, or I can look at the healing associated with each one.  My cancer scar especially tells me the story of my general practitioner who wisely noticed something different during my annual physical.  His experience and wisdom had me see an endocrinologist within days and a diagnosis within a week.  Caught early, the cancer was no problem.  The scar reminds me of the successful treatment and recovery, not the question of "why me who got cancer?"

But what about the unseen scars we all carry?  The rejection or abuse or criticism from a parent or coach or teacher that fuels that voice in our head telling us we're no good and will never measure up?  Those scars come from deep wounds.  But wounds of this kinda are exactly what Jesus came to heal.  That's the thing about wounds.  They can be cared for and healed, yet still leave a scar as a remembrance of the wound but without the ongoing effects.

The wounds we still carry, however, are things we need to bring to Jesus.  So many people in the gospels sought Him out to heal their wounds.  They brought their brokenness and asked Him to touch them and bring healing and wholeness where there used to be suffering and pain.

Lent is the perfect time to bring our brokenness to Jesus and ask to be healed.  Stop carrying those old wounds and the negative effects that come with them--both the wounds you received and those you caused yourself through your own sinfulness and disobedience.  Silence those voices in your head and replace it with the promises of a Savior and a Loving Father.  As the wounds heal and the scars appear, let them remind you of the powerful healing and be filled with gratitude for your deliverance from the hurt.  Embrace your new identity as one who has shed the lies of the past and replace it with one who walks in emotional and psychological health.

So, as you walk through this Lent, surrender your wounds and believe that Jesus has healed you--and get ready for a joyous Easter celebration of a new and abundant life.