Scars Don't Hurt.

I've sat here at this table, the one next to the huge column so it seems more tucked away admits a large lobby.  The table where I can see the people come and go in waves- children running and giggling, the elderly man barely hobbling along.  This table with macbook out and list long of things to be done.

I've sat in the cove to the right for lab work many times.  Some days in pajamas with my parents on both sides and some days by myself with African dust still matted in my hair.  I see the people waiting and waiting confused and hurting.  I see it now, I remember it then. 

To get coffee around here you walk right through the children's hospital and I've been there too.  Many nights and days for my own illnesses and those of friends and friends babies.  And I've spent a whole lot of time in doctors offices with un-answered questions.

Its like a walk of victory in these halls.  Something inside me stirs up.  Though my Mom might be under in surgery right now we have won.  Each and every little step around this place.  No matter the outcome- victory is ours, forever.   The places that once hurt, hard, messy, dark valleys yet, now we stand on top clearly seeing goodness.

Wounds hurt, scars don't have any pain.  I don't know much, but I know my God restores and heals.  It comes in the strangest of ways but HE does that you know.  He takes the parts and the broken and the hurt and makes its all so fresh and new- completely fixing.  He makes the wounds into scars that don't hurt anymore. 

It's pretty overwhelming at times to stop and remember what He has done and what He is doing right now- with IV in her arm and stitches on the way.  Her surgeon always comes out and makes sure to stare me in the whites of my eyes and report the days completion.  Him, still in scrubs and gloves, he always comes.

He tells me precisely what to expect, and what I need to know for the coming days.   He hands me his card every time with cell phone scratched on the back with instructions to ask when we are in need.  He just has it under control.  He planned this all out- each cut and stitch, he knows how it will heal.  He knows how to the wounds will be scars and how long it should take. 

HE, Jesus the one that turns the wounds into scars and the hurt into joy and confusion into peace.  HE, he always comes right to where I settle and tells me where we're going and to just ask when I need.  He knows where to find me.  He always comes.  He planned each moment out- me in this hospital, with every minute ticking on by breaking and sewing- turning the wounds to scars.  He never leaves us.  Victory remains.  He always has the whole world together and under control, and He always will- even my small world at the table in this lobby.