You kept Your scars. God made flesh, who bled and died, now glorified, and the scars remain.

The hurt You suffered was deep. Whips and thorns, nails and splinters. Betrayal, scorn, injustice and abandonment. They marked Your body and spirit. You went through all the trauma a human-being could experience. But death could not restrain You. Your mission was accomplished and You rose again. Those who loved You were amazed, but some would not dare to hope in the good news, fearing they would be disappointed. Your answer, out of Your grace, was to appear to them and reveal Your scars.

Those wounds that once spoke of pain, now declare joy. The marks of loss, are now a sign of hope. The signs of death and decay give way to Your resurrection life. So Thomas fell at Your feet and worshipped You, because he could finally see who You are.

If You did not hide your scars, why do I try to hide mine? The wounds that have wrought havock in my life, pockmark me. They cause fear, shame and doubt. I am driven into the shadows, hoping no one can see my disfigurement. But Your grace is sufficient for me and Your power is made perfect in my weakness. You want to transform my scars, not erase them. You want to use them to bring healing and restoration to myself and to others. You want to love me, despite them. You want me to surrender because of them. And as I do, I begin to see You more clearly, and I begin to see myself the way You see me. The horrific wounds are transformed and redeemed, and I cannot help but worship You.