I have three cactus plants sitting in my office window.  They would be sitting at my house but my wife is not fond of them.  So they are over here where I can enjoy them.  Of the three I have one that is not doing well.  Part of me says I need to throw it out but I am having trouble parting with it.(This is sounding familiar). Anyway, that is not the cactus I want to talk about. 

My favorite cactus is the first one I received.  It came from my grandma’s garden in Arizona.  I am not sure why I like these usual plants. Cactus plants are not really all that pretty.  You can’t touch them.  But they are easy to care for.  I believe you either love them or hate them.  I love them, my wife hates them.  Oh well, we all can’t like all the same things.

Anyway, at the time I received this cactus it was nothing more than a small stump; cute little thing.  As it grew I noticed something.  It started to lean, but always in the direction of the window (If I didn’t know any better I would think it was trying to escape).  So every once in a while I would rotate it, but it would always grow in the direction of the window (as if it were saying "you are not going to stop me from getting out of here").  Soon it became very tall and curvy.  I guess it was not trying to escape, it just liked the light. Then one day it broke off.  My wife was dusting at the time and she says she had nothing to do with it; that it just broke all by itself, but I wonder (She never liked that cactus).  That was when I decided to move them to my office where they would be safe from Connie’s "dusting".

So now I had a shorter cactus.  I wondered how it would respond to its trauma (to this day the poor thing just shakes in fear when Connie comes into my office).  I keep it in the light and water it (but not too much; they don’t like too much water). Soon a little stump grew from the edge of where it broke off.  Now it is beginning to return to its former glory, but the scar is still there and it always will be there as a reminder; reminding me of brokenness and healing.

I have been "broken" a few times in my life.  I have scars to prove it.  Some of the scars are very visible.  Like when I fell head first down some cement stairs when I was 2 years old nearly cutting the top of my ear off.  But other scars are not so visible.  Those scars are the emotional ones; like when a friend let me down.  But when I am reminded of these scars I think back to the former pain and the healing that came along with it. 

Maybe that is what scars are supposed to do…they remind us that we are not invincible but rather fragile creatures.  Scars also remind us of healing; that pain will come our way, but that we will recover.  Scars remind us of a promise.  There is something comforting about that.  I try to avoid pain in life but I know I won’t totally succeed.  But when pain and "brokenness" do come I know that healing will be close behind.  That is the promise. 

Read through the Gospel of Mark sometime and pay close attention to the various healing stories.  I wonder if these people ever thought healing would come their way.  I bet not.  They lived in hopelessness.  What a terrible thing.  But we do not live in hopelessness, because with Jesus there will always be healing.  But remember…healing comes in a variety of ways.  Be open to how Jesus heals you.  That is why I like to use this phrase when praying for someone, "…and grant them healing in anyway you see that they need".  Jesus in his infinite wisdom WILL heal you in the way that gives God glory.  Hopelessness is a thing of the past for Jesus is here with you.  Jesus, through the cross, came to heal the pain and brokenness of the world.

Remember your scars and the promise that comes with them (I bet you have never looked at scars that way before…I know I haven’t).  Amen!  -EDH-