Death is not worse pain than an empty life. -- Lun Tha

When I was a little girl, I'd get the requisite ouches.  Scrapes.  Cuts.  Whatever.

And I would bleed. 

But because we are not meant to continue bleeding, my body started to heal itself up.  Scabs would form over wounds that were healing. 

They itched, often times. 

I would scratch them. Or pick at them.  Mums would tell me to leave them alone, or they'd never heal properly.  I didn't listen.

I'd pick at the old wounds, opening them up, allowing them to get infected. My foolishness would make them bigger, sometimes.  Because I couldn't leave them alone.  The scars I bear are in some part due to my refusal to allow myself to heal.  Not all the scars, no.  Some are on my body because I was hurt or sick and even though I did everything right, the scars are still there to be seen by anyone. 

I'm older now, and wiser.  I still get hurt.   I still need the occasional bandage.  But I have learned, over time, that the best way to let a wound heal is to give it care and consideration, but not to pick at it.  Find out what happened and why, take care to avoid it happening again, and let my body heal itself.

In our spirits, we are often wounded.  Our human nature makes us want to pick at the wounds of the heart, exploring them, sometimes to feel the hurt to remind ourselves that yes, we WERE hurt and it WAS real.  I understand this.  We need to know what happened and why.

But then, the best thing to do is to quit picking at the wounds of the spirit.   Find forgiveness. Let the wounds heal. 

We will still carry the scars, invisible though they might be.  I carry scars from wounds no one knows I've borne.  They're there, though, a part of myself that won't go away because my memory -- like a skin cell -- renews with near-perfect replication. 

I hope, though, that I have grown wiser with time.  That I don't pick at what can't be changed. That I don't cause myself to bleed any more over things that cannot be undone.

I hope I have grown wise enough to let myself heal, in the grace of my Creator, who made the body to heal and the mind to heal.  Scarred, but whole.

I value my scars, inside and out. They've taught me many things. I have just learned not to pick at them anymore.