Scars

Scar - (skär) - n. - A lingering sign of damage or injury, either mental or physical: nightmares, anxiety, and other enduring scars of wartime experiences.

DateLine (11/9/05 – Ponce, Puerto Rico)

At the age of 24 I decided that I posessed all the skills necessary to build a house. The very thought of that now sends shudders through my body. The facts at the time were, Harriett and I needed a home, I had more time than I had money, I had just spent about 6 months working in the industry in the Charlestion area, and I didn’t posess enough intelligence to conclude that I couldn’t do it. Ok, it was not as far fetched as it may appear. Afterall, I grew up around the industry while my dad managed a lumber yard in Woodruff.

Harriett and I sketched out the “house of our dreams” and had a local draftsman convert the rough sketches to house plans. I identified a mortgage company that I thought would work with me as a do-it-yourselfer and scheduled an appointment. I walked into that appointment that day with a set of houseplans under my arm and the swagger of a seasoned politician.

As I think back to that day from history’s perspective I don’t know how the loan officer kept from snickering. The officer asked a few questions that I understand now was contrived to determine if I had any idea what I was about to undertake. Evidently I gave sufficient answers because much to my astonishment I walked away from that appointment with a verbal agreement to finance my endeavor. It was late winter at the time and as soon as it started warming up we were off and running. The following May, about 15 months later, we moved into our new home, which except for a few odds and ends and a little wallpaper was complete.

In that 15 month period I lost about 10-15 pounds which made me look like a walking skeleton and spent every waking hour except when I was working my day job on that house; weekends, holidays, and vacation. Along the way I picked up more than one scar from battles with the tools of the trade. On one particular occasion I was using a table saw and got the wood that I was cutting caught in a bind between the blade and the fence. The piece of wood shot back at me as though it had been fired from a canon striking me in the throat. The wound was superficial but left scarring that several years later caused people to wonder if I had gone through the experience of a tracheotomy.

I was dedicated 100% to the task of building that house. Once I started there was no turning back. There were periods of time when I would have thousands of dollars of credit at several building supply stores and could not pay them off until I had completed enough work to make a “draw” from my mortage company. I could not stop or turn back, I was committed. It turned out to be a family project. Between my dad and brother and Harriett’s dad and brothers I had more than enough help to get the job done. It was not easy. The sense of accomplishment at the end of the project was immensely satisfying. When I finished I had the marks on my body that bore witness to the grueling process.

The Apostle Paul wrote in Galatians 6:17, “I bear on my body the marks of Jesus.” What’s the connection? The Christian life is much like the project I undertook years ago. We must wholely commit ourselves to Him. There is no turning back. It is difficult work. We should expect to experience trials that will leave scars; perhaps some physical, perhaps some pyschological. We are not alone, we will have help. In the end the scars will be a beautiful testimony of our devotion to Christ and His ultimate safekeeping. We may be battered and bruised but He will not allow our demise until it is time. And just like in my story, when the job is done, we move into a new home. Don’t let the fear of temporal struggles deprive you of the deep joy of knowing our Lord by virtue of total commitment. Go ahead, jump in.