As she looks over the various marks forever etched on her skin, she doesn’t mind them. She knows them all and they all have a story attached to them; this is the story of motherhood.
The burn mark on her wrist is the one she got when her one-year-old daughter pulled the iron cord onto herself. Mother rushed in and took the burn in order to spare her daughter the pain from the blistering flesh.
The scar on her finger is from the steak knife her six-year-old daughter used to cut an apple exclaiming, “Mommy, look I can do it myself!” Mother quickly placed her hand over her daughter’s right before she was about to cut one of her precious fingers. Even then, Mother spared her from seeing the blood as the knife penetrated her own delicate flesh.
Unseen and invisible to anyone is the scar on her heart. This is the one Mother received when her sixteen-year-old daughter walked in one day and declared, “I am dropping out of school.” Immediately, Mother feels the pieces of heart begin to shatter. And while over the years a layer of scar tissue has built up around her heart, this scar is the one that hurts the most. Although she doesn’t have a mark on her body to identify it, the emotional scar on her heart is one she would readily trade for one that can be seen on her body.
We as mothers bear many scars; many that can be seen, but several more that cannot by the human eye. These are the scars we mask with the delicately placed make-up of little smiles and laughter. Through it all, Mother goes through great lengths to spare her child from pain, but she hurts even more when she can no longer shield her child from pain.
This pain makes me think of when the Father saw His Son experience excruciating pain and had to turn His back and allow Him to be subjected to it. After the resurrection, Jesus bore the physical scars from the imprint of the nails. Just like Mother, however, the greatest scar was probably the one on His heart; Mother’s because her heart was broken by the decision of her child and Jesus’ because His heart was broken over the rejection of His people.
Jesus is able to heal all wounds, physical and emotional, old ones and new ones. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: …But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed (Isaiah 53:4a, 5). I am thankful that Jesus is able to uncover our delicately made up mask and give us a genuine smile and laughter.
Yes, motherhood comes with joy and pain, but it is an experience we would not trade for the world. So mothers wear your scars proudly. You really can’t think of anything more rewarding than being a mother especially when your child grows up and one day says to you, “Thanks Mom.”
Mother Vivian Valdez Pruitte