What if emotional scars were visible?
Would we tread on sensitive subjects with feather-like grace?
Would we think twice about the way we pass judgement?
Would compassion flow freely from our lips?
Would grace drench our conversations?
Would we more quickly realize that our broken hearts match everyone else’s?
Would our relationships be more vulnerable and honest?
Would we risk rejection with an encouraging word simply because they need it?
Would we love relentlessly without restrain?
Would each conversation be filled with understanding and transparency?
Would we lend a bandage or two?
Would we reveal our own scars for the sake of helping them understand theirs?
Would our selfishness subside?
Would we be brave enough to allow altruistic love to flood in?
Would our pride be wrecked as humility comes knocking on our door?
Would life seem more fleeting?
Would we choose to find the beauty in our brokenness?
Would we accept those scars as reminders of where we’ve come from?
Would we learn from those scars and treat them as works of art?
Would we stop beating ourselves up when another one appears?
Would we find comfort in knowing that we aren’t the only ones bleeding?
Would we desire to see healed wrists of the slaves bound by the shackles of past hurt?
Would we do everything we could to pay their ransom?
Would setting the captives free be our first priority?
Would our need for a Savior be more apparent?
Would we run to Him more recklessly?
Would we leave our comfort zones in the dust as He calls us deeper?
Would Heaven seem more attractive?
Would His scars change the way we viewed ours?
Would they be enough?
How much pain does it take for us to realize our words and actions hold weight?
How many wounds does it take for us to love as if we could heal them?
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