Scars

 She! 

It's 3am. The world is fast asleep but she's wild away tossing her mind with wild thoughts. She feels helpless and worthless, pillow is soaked in tears and the fear of adding tears to the already over flooded pillow holds her back. She groans as she takes yet another turn in her rather uncomfortable wet bed. She uncovers herself from the cold blanket and encounters sounds of buzzing mosquitoes trying to feast on her bitterly flavoured dark blood. The smell from fetid bin near her bedside forces her to cover herself again. She remembers the pile of unwashed dishes which cooked food she didn't even eat. If her mind serves her right she can't remember the last time she had genuine meal or a bath. Her stomach gutters groanly with pain from the cramps that seem to take an eternity to fade away. A genuine smile is never a vocabulary in her life. She wears masks and a fake smile coupled with make up to hide the rot in her entire body. She's hurting, she's breaking apart and like a shattered glass from greater heights she's into pieces. She's falling apart. Yes, she wants to die but heaven feels far away. 

She covers herself again, maybe this time she'll get a little sleep if not forever. Morning is coming in a few and maybe the chilly weather would make her numb to these scars the world has to offer. These scars that conceal which conceal the original her and make her the person she's not. These scars, some of which are fresh, some slowly healing and others; just a cicatrix. 

The thing is; Life, like anyone else starts with a wound cut connecting them to the cord creating the very first wound that needed healing. Signaling that maybe life won't be perfect. We pick more as we grow up and woe and pity to us who grew up in upcountry where we would stroll in the sand. Scars were us and we're scars. Childhood memories weren't memories without a broken hand or a digital with "sausage" for that matter. And with pubertal growth spurt we encounter more scars if not we change our names to scars. This time the scars are not physical but rather emotional and mental, and with our judgement clobbered by a surge in testosterone and progesterone -which I would get to learn later that they all have a structure called cyclopentanoperhydrophenathrene-, we assume these scars and tell ourselves to man up. They make us the people we're not  and like anger, wither us our very best own. The society considers us social misfit who can't man up and face our scars. 

We all have scars. Emotional abuse from bitter words spoken to us in our childhood or that first break up from a partner who never loved you. We all know this, or that first heart break from a crushie you never dated. Or from that abusive parent who was always drank and never provided; always absent. Or from that body shape issues and one day one of your closest friend made a joke about it which never went as expected. Or from that feeling of life's victimisation on you. Or from that confidence issue and speaking up. The thing is; we all have scars. 

Now that we're cognisant of the fact that we all have scars, it's no longer a question of do I have scars it's a matter of; How do I embrace my scars? The letter of Paul to children of God in Rome  chapter 8 verse 28 reminds me that everything-good or bad- happens for a good purpose. Let's embrace these scars for everyone has their share. My scars are not your scars nor their scars ours. My straw from this pot of scars is from a different angle. The baseline is;our scars are different but we ain't indifferent to them. 

So, maybe it's those insecurities or that feeling of vulnerability,wear it proudly. That plus size tummy you never love about; wear it. Or that strongly melanin-tinted skin; wear it, it's beautiful and after all who said beauty is light skin? May it be that receding hairline your friends make a joke about it's resemblance to Heathrow; wear it. Or maybe it's that geoid or truck-shaped head that keeps you on a cap even when praying; wear it. Or maybe it's those small hips you're insecure about, you don't need to stand in a certain position to take a photo. Let them call you electric pole but wear it! Or maybe it's that acne filled face coupled with black spots, wear it! It's beautiful and look amazing with it, clad it proudly and rock it. The gospel here is soo simple; wear it proudly and don't be the person you're not! 

Or maybe it's that partner you had given your all but in turn broke your heart? It's okay not to be okay with that, after all nobody wants to loose a person they love. It's okay to cry your eyes out. Maybe the tears as they flow, would wash away all the inequities done. It's okay your heart to be broken, remember again Romans 8:28; maybe the next partner is a better version. You don't know. Maybe God destined you for greatness; just maybe. But don't let the fact that it's not always about the other person, sometimes it's about us slide away. 

Or maybe it's  that absent parent who's ever drank, emotionally abusive and providence to them is never a vocabulary in their doing? This has taken away your happiness and replaced it with a swollen teary eyes and a breaking heart, a feeling of unworthiness and a parenting void left in you. It has influenced your decision making and feeling of vulnerability in your relationship. It's okay to weep and seek answers to these. Why you? It's okay to feel victimised with the world. But remember, it doesn't have to end this way, you can consciously change this. It doesn't have to flow to your marriage life and influence it. Maybe, just maybe this is the only way God wanted to communicate a thing to you. Isn't it cute for God to communicate to you personally. Soon, everything will make sense! Maybe it's a preparation for a greater calling and a greater work; this sounds cliché but the truth. 

Or maybe it's those large jaws of death that have robbed a person close to your heart? A part of you feels 6 feet deep and you're breaking in silence. But isn't that person high in the heavens going to appreciate if you just stop lamenting, clad their gown and act that good deed they always inspired you with? Maybe only this will heal you and make another version of the person they were in this earth. 

With all said and done, may our scars remind us that we're brave soldiers who did not die. May they remind us of all what we've endured to be at the position we're at. May the scars remind us of our victories  we've won and battles we've fought. May we wear them proudly and be a mark of victory rather than a shame to us. 

Jesus, Jesus is a permanently scared King who gives us a reason to smile about our scars. He has scars too, so if the Son of Man has scars, then what about us? May He give us an example to emulate. He accepted blood and water to gush out of his wounds and leave a permanent scar. So, whenever you feel sorry about your scars, remember the Son of Man. He has scars too and displays them proudly to us to learn from them. 

Yes, scars are beautiful. Scars are part of us. 

Inspired by Wairimu☺.