Storytelling Scars

With a kid on each hip, three pairs of eyes admire the friendly creatures peering back at us from the other side of the fence. The unique cross-shaped markings on their backs immediately caught the attention of those little eyes in my arms.

As I take in this balmy summer moment that seemed to clash with the cold reality of my life crisis, I am reminded of two things I know about donkeys. I know very little about donkeys. But somewhere along the line, I learned about the legend of the cross on their backs. I also heard that donkeys are better in pairs. The reminder of what Jesus did on the cross for us reflected in this biblical beast is just one of God’s many creative displays. But the fact that a lone donkey is a sad donkey hit a little too close to home for the kid-toting farm visitor that day. I quickly shake Eeyore visions from my mind and move on to the alpacas. God’s humorous creativity at its finest right there.

Like the marks on a donkey, we humans have storytelling marks and scars as well. The twenty-plus inches of scar tissue on my body certainly tell of miracles. The twelve-inch mark across my bottom ribs displays the removal of a grapefruit-sized tumor. The c-section line represents life in the form of my youngest child. The faint trail down my thigh reveals the removal of a large chunk of flesh during my youth, perfect for wild shark attack stories.

Even the walls of a house can tell stories. All the dents, marks, and chipped drywall of my current dwelling definitely warn: “Live Family Inside.” There is the RC car obstacle course stairway, the bowling alley hallway, the door frame where a delivered appliance decided to get stuck, the patches where birthday decor and a wall bonded with intensity, and the baseboards of the dog’s favorite sleeping spot. 

Thankfully, these house scars tell of a life well lived. A place where fun, adventure, accidents, learned lessons, and regular everyday abiding occur. A rental house of my past told a different story. Hole-punched walls and a fist-dented door leave scars that tell stories of tragedy. But they can also share testimonies of hope if we allow God to be the Storyteller. As our external and internal wounds heal they can leave behind messages of encouragement for others. We can find purpose in our pain.

So, although I often feel more like the quirky alpaca, I want to display the markings of a donkey. May my scars and stories point to the cross. To the One who provides healing and hope. 

And sometimes, when least expected, He even provides a donkey mate. God is the ultimate creative Storyteller after all.

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