Scars that Speak
“Silence about trauma also leads to death - the death of the soul.”
-Bessel van der Kolk
Many times I wish I had a physical scar across my forehead to serve as an outward reminder and sign of the deep pain I have experienced. I was watching a TV show the other day with a character who had undergone multiple heart surgeries and had many deep thick scars from his heart problems. He wanted to hide the scars. His friend said to him, “don’t be ashamed of the scars as they are evidence of your survival as you encountered significant hardship and trauma and overcame.”
Wow, I thought to myself. I wish I had a scar too. I wouldn’t have to hide anymore. If I had a scar, people would be inclined to ask me what happened and it would give me freedom and permission to speak my truth. It would serve as a reminder for people to be gentle with me but also for me to be gentle with myself. A scar would also serve as a physical reminder that I have healed.
However, many wounds go unrecognized lying dormant and hidden awaiting The Healer. In the book, The Body Keeps the Score, author Bessel van der Kolk says, “Silence about trauma also leads to death - the death of the soul.” Soul death. The death that has no scar but slowly steals your hope. That is why I spend so much of my time and energy in the presence of God, his word, and praising his name. I carry a wound that feels like my soul is dying. I daily have to put my heart on his altar and pray for the “surgery” of healing. I am waiting for the day where I lay it out there and in one swoop, he heals the whole thing. His word in Psalm 147:3 says,
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
He hasn’t worked that way for me, at least not yet. My healing comes in small moments; moments of bravery where I slowly open my mouth and share my story, moments of surrender where I cry out “Jesus, help,” moments of trusting his divinity with a wound still open. My relationship with The Healer is a deep dependence on his ability to rescue, comfort, and inhabit my brokenness, my trauma and my suffering. I pray that at some point in my life, the wound closes and the stitches leave a scaring as evidence that I survived and overcame.
Van der Kolk explains, “Silence reinforces the godforsaken isolation of trauma. Being able to say aloud to another human being, ‘I was raped’ or ‘I was battered by my husband’ or ‘My parents called it discipline, but it was abuse’ or ‘I’m not making it since I got back from Iraq,’ is a sign that healing can begin.” We often don’t have the outward scars that share our story for us. They reside in the deep recesses of the body only penetrable by the great I AM.
My friends, I pray for your courage and my courage to openly carry our crosses as we daily lay them down to the one who will bind them closed for us. But until that day, let’s allow our hope to rest in Jesus and what he can and will do for us on this side or the next. Stay brave in your words and in your surrendering. I am with you in prayer.
