Beautiful Scars

She read aloud the story I’d read myself, and had heard dozens of times before.

“Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.’

Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!‘”

Every single time I read this passage in the past, I focused my attention on what comes right after. Jesus then says “Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed“. Or, I used Thomas as an example of it being OK to come to Jesus when we are struggling to believe and have faith. And both are valid and important interpretations.

But on this cool October night, the speaker did not focus on those things after reading this passage. In fact, she said very little at all. Because after reading John 20:24-29, she simply turned to us and said –

Jesus shows his scars, to tell his story and to show he is real. That’s how we tell his story as well. That’s how we show he is real. With our scars.”

I was wrecked for the rest of the night.

In fact, it has taken me weeks to really work through what I want to say, and how I need to say it.

Because the truth is, I have a lot of scars.

Deep ones. Bad ones. Shameful ones.

A lot of scars.

And yet, I know that what she said is absolutely true. It is always my scars, my brokenness, my realness, and my messiness, that reveal how real and how ever present He is.

Even more so, it is always someone else’s brokenness and scars that show me Jesus, time and time again.

Why do we spend so much time trying to pretend like they are not there, or cover them up with layer after layer of what the world says is beautiful?


I spent most of my teenage years and all of my twenties, trying to hide scars too deep to really ever cover. I even spent most of my early years as a Christian trying to “fit it” and veil the scars that I knew God was beginning to heal.

When I had my children, I began to see my past differently. I began to see my scars as just a small part of an amazing story of God’s redemption.

And when my husband and I began to pursue marriage, it was clear. Mick loved me with all of them. Not only that, he saw them as a beautiful tale of God’s love for his daughter.

And they are. Every. Single. Scar.

I know this.

So why do I now spend so much time trying to protect my sons from ever, ever getting hurt, broken, or afraid?

Why do I cry at night thinking about how socially awkward my eldest was with the other boys his age, or wondering if my little one is ever going to read?

Why does my stomach hurt when I think about my youngest son trying to fill out a job application one day? Or the other one trying to complete an in-person interview?

Why do I fear what I know is a necessary part of their lives?

The truth is that by their scars, they too will tell of a Jesus who is real. By their scars, they too will come to see that they are a part of a beautiful story of redemption and love and mercy.

And I want nothing less for them.

So today, I pray for the wisdom to know when to intervene and protect, and when to let them go.

I pray for their necessary, wonderful scars to be useful in the Kingdom.

I pray that no matter what life brings to my children, no matter what these special circumstances of theirs behold, we will meet them willingly, with obedience, and with our arms wide open.

Because beauty, true beauty, is right here, waiting for us to share it with others.

It’s in the messy and the dirty, the brokenness and the pain.

It’s in the diagnoses and the meltdowns and the upside down “e’s” and the bills that pile up. It’s one momma, and another, and another, and another pouring out her heart, loving her children fiercely.

Our scars are how we really, truly, deeply love.

And our children’s scars? They are going to be just as truth-telling, just as beautiful.

May His will be done.


If you ever have a chance to hear Megan Fate Marshman speak, please take it! Do not pass go, do not collect $200, just go, and let this sweet woman lead you to the cross over and over again.

Beautiful Scars





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  1. Dear Shawna,

    How very poignant your post is. And what you have touched on in this post is, we are all more alike then we know. Motherhood makes us one in understanding, or at least it should. In reading this I pray other mothers will see themselves, gain new insight and it will draw them closer to that mother in the store whose child is having a meltdown. I pray that the day will come that we see this happening and we reach out in love and empathy to the distressed mother. And no mother will have to worry about what those in public places see as her lack of parenting because they don’t understand.

    For as you’ve described praying for your children, wishing things were different and that you could make it all go away, every mother has prayed for this , diagnosis or not… we all have scars caused by life’s experiences, that we wish had been different.

    I know you know something of what Hill experienced growing up with her dad. But as we all know, no sees it all. And over the years I have anguished over so many things I wished I could have changed. But here is where the payoff is, in trusting in the Lord. She grew and blossomed and became this amazing flower, a woman of God with amazing heart and understanding. And the day came dear Shawna, when I realized I would not change a thing, for all of these scars, or life experiences, have made her what she is today. And not in arrogance do I say this, for I know it was of God and nothing I did, but I absolutely love the woman she is. And I love you the same dear niece.

    1. You are such an encouragement. Thank you so much for your words, and for sharing the wisdom of your experience. I just love it!

      1. Thank you dearest!! I have loved you from my first glimpse of you 8 months old. I am so extremely proud of you!! Words aren’t enough!! Go team Wingert!!

    1. I do appreciate it! Beautifully said.

  2. This is beautiful, and real, and authentic. Everything I strive to be in my walk with the Lord. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

    1. You are very, very kind Zoe. Thank you so much.

  3. Reblogged this on zoe been and commented:
    This post touched my heart. It reverberates in me in ways I can’t describe.

  4. Thank you so much for this post because it has changed my perspective towards my own scars. When i look at my scars i see a prayer answered, I see a reminder that i am no longer who i use to be but a new creation in Christ full of love, power and of a sound mind. God bless you and your beautiful family!

    1. Perfectly said! Thank you so much.

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