Funny how something that was once so painful can become such a great memory. The scar on my chin has been a source of self-consciousness for me for years, but when I took this picture yesterday and saw the scar on my chin, I saw beauty.My scar reminds me of the beauty of my daddy's love. I was just 3 when I got this scar. I was riding my tricycle down the sidewalk when I hit a rock and flew chin first off the trike. My dad swept in and rescued me.
My scar reminds me of the beauty of my Heavenly Father's perfect timing. God's perfect timing allowed that my dad would be coming home from work just after I fell. I clearly remember my hero scooping me up, throwing my trike in the back of the truck and rushing me home to my mommy.
My scar reminds me of the beauty of my mommy's care. She carefully patted down my chin, comforted me and took me to the ER, where I received 13 stitches. She held me when I was hurting and let me know everything would be OK.
My scar reminds me that I am loved. And THAT is beautiful!
2 comments:
Very sweet way to redeem what you could view as bad and bring beauty out of the ashes, so to speak.
I chuckle a little remembering that when your dad rushed you in to me, bleeding profusely, I very intentionally chose a brown washcloth to use so you wouldn't get blood all over a light colored one....loving, yes - - and practical!
I was supermom until they started trimming away the rough edges with a pair of scissors in preparation for stitching you up. I had to slide down the wall and sit down on the floor for just a bit because I got light-headed - and I didn't want them to have 2 patients.
Oh I am SO glad I don't remember the "trimming" part!
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