Scars Mean The Battle Was Real

When I was a little girl I loved to walk in creek beds. I would admire the way the trees would bend in as to shelter what was beneath. I also noticed how the creek banks were like cradles to usher the water flow in its journey to the next bigger body of water. You know, thinking about it, I wonder if those rocks kept the creek water humble so it wouldn’t flow faster than it should.

One day on a creek bed journey, I fell. My ankle was wedged between two rocks and my knee got busted open and this little people wedged inside it. I could feel the pebble as I tried to stand and cried. My friend’s dad picked me up and took me to the house where he lovingly removed the pebble and bandaged my knee.

That happened when I was 8. Thirty years later, when I shave or wear shorts, I am reminded of this day. I don’t rehearse the pain. I rehearse the memory of the beauty I took in that day. Of the creek. Of the man’s kindness.

From the age of 6 until I was 12, I endured sexual abuse. It was horrendous and if you see at the top of this blog I have a page that shares that testimony in depth. As of right now, I carry the biggest scar from this time in my life.

Something troubles me deeply lately. I watch crowds often. The expressions. The body language. I see so many who have endured terrible things in their lives yet they never let the wound heal and come to a scar. They let it fester. The keep breaking the wound open. They hide under the labels PTSD, Anxiety Sufferer, Depressed, Suicidal with constant symptoms like these below:

I have suffered the wound each of the feelings caused. They are very real and they are very hard to overcome. But it is not impossible to overcome them. What if the label serves more as an excuse than a step towards healing?

Have you seen these around:

What if we are given heightened strengths and awareness due to the trauma in our lives? So many us have suffered. What if we claimed our victories and stood tall instead of grasping our frailties and succumbing to evil’s darkness? It seems to me trauma victors have a lot to offer a very dark world.

I like this song called My House by Pvris. Within the song you come across these lyrics:


“Never thought that I would feel like this
Such a mess when I’m in your presence
I’ve had enough, I think you’ve been making me sick
Gotta get you out of my system
It’s my house
And I think it’s time to get out
It’s my soul
It isn’t yours anymore
It’s my house
And I think it’s time to get out
Yeah, I think it’s time to get out”

I remember the first time hearing this song I had to listen to it another dozen times. Why? I related. Pvris may have meant those lyrics to be taken totally in a different direction with their meaning to this song, but for me, it was about a dark demonic presence I carried with me often, for as long as I can remember. It made me relive memories. It made me have flashbacks. It made curl in the corner in fear due to the fact I felt someone was coming to hurt me again. It made me live in fear so much that I tried to end my life on three different occasions. It is my house. And I think was time the darkness leave me.

November 14, 1999 I gave my life, heart and soul to Christ. 6 weeks later I did the same thing to my husband, December 31, 1999. I was letting go of the festering wounds. I was going to quit opening the wounds up. I was going to bare the scar instead. That journey was long. But I can tell you I stand completely a survivor. I am not a victim. I won’t bare anymore of those labels the keep me repressed and my healing in the distance.

Be blessed. Listen to the words of Scars by I Am They. SCARS

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