I have many scars. Christ was scarred for each of my many scars. Thank God for that. The repercussions of these scars though continue to remind me of God's never ending grace and mercy. I would be nowhere without his grace and mercy on my life. His grace and mercy was clearly evident when I finally came to realize I was a sinner in desperate need of Him to save me. This happened at the beginning of my eighth grade year, the first year I was homeschooled. However, the previous year, my seventh grade year, was the worst year of my life. If you knew me, you would have wished you never knew me. I cussed continuously to no end at school, I used God's name as a curse word at school, I lied regularly at home and school, I lusted after the girls at school, I stole from the school, I was a complete wretch. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. My own life was a horrible mess. If you saw me at my house, you would have thought I was normal. I was normal around my grandparents, my parents, my friends at Calvary Church, my relatives, etc. I was not a Christian. I thought I was, since I won all those memorization contests in Elementary church, but I was not a true believer. I had never repented of all my sins.
I share these awful memories, because they contributed deep scars. Scars I will never forget, but scars that are washed in the precious blood of the Lamb. These scars, specifically the scars in my seventh grade year, are definite tributes to God's grace. When I recall my own voice cursing His name, I see Him hanging helplessly on that cross paying for the specific sin I just committed, and it makes me want to weep tears of joy. My sin has been paid for. Full atonement can it be. Hallelujah, what a Savior. That is why I never put light significance on the cross. He was scarred for my scars. Thank you Lord!