subject line: praise God we don't have to hide scars



My pastor talked today about scars and how the vast majority of our scars are the ones buried deep inside that no one has ever seen or heard of. Gently, he explained that everyone has scars; they’re anything that makes us feel less valuable or like we have no worth. He pulled out a plastic container, laid it on the alter, and set out a pile of paper and pens, encouraging us to write down our “scars” and place them in the container to lift up to the Lord.
”For a lot of you, this will be the first time you’ve ever acknowledged these scars. Maybe this is the first time you’ve ever brought them out in the open.”
I walked to the front and with hands shaking, wrote down the four letters that for so long have defined me, and for years no one has ever known.


No one will ever see that piece of paper. No one will know I wrote it. And even if someone did see it, they would probably never guess in a million years that a girl wrote it. Guys are the only ones that are suppose to be addicted to porn, right?

I walked back to my pew, hands still shaking, tears welling up, knowing that if anyone had ever seen what I wrote, they would see me for the disgusting piece of trash I am. But I don’t care, because today, for the first time ever, the scars that once were buried deep saw the light of day.