Modern medicine is simply amazing. They can almost do anything with surgery and creativity. You can be remade, refurbished, re-fixed, remolded or re-anything for that matter. There have been those who have had catastrophic accidents and the surgeons were able to correct it to almost its original state.
Men and women who have been injured on a battlefield have required extensive skin and bone surgery and our wonderful doctors have been able to bring some semblance of hope and joy to these people because of their skills.
Dr. Jonathan Dutton came into my life years ago when I was required to have a tumor examined behind my left eye. Dr. Dutton, an ocular-plastic surgeon at Duke University shared with me, pre-surgery, that he would leave a line on my eyebrow that would give the appearance of an expression line. This was to keep from having a major scar. He was true to his word. More years later, Dr. Dutton shared with me his involvement in introducing and utilizing Botox to the market of the common public for cosmetic purposes.
I have had difficulties and situations in my life that have left scars, rips and tears in my emotional and spiritual appearance that needed some major work so that others would perceive me as having it all together and in total and complete health in both areas. However, as usual in plastic surgery, I knew many people could see through that and knew that I had an artificial makeover. The makeover was more embarrassing than the actual disfigurement. It made me look proud and vain.
However, God showed me that agape went deeper than my scars, rips and tears. In fact, He didn’t like the fact that I was trying to take care of something that I had no education or skill in. He didn’t like that I was trying to do self-surgery and internal spiritual repair. His agape to me revealed what my lover knew about me all along. See, in spite of my emotional and spiritual disfigurement, He agaped me for who I was. He agaped me for me. He knew I had been afflicted, storm battered and un-pitied. He told me He didn’t care for plastic surgery. For He showed me scars of agape on His body. I smiled when He said, “Look, see these deep scars on my forehead?” He told me of the crown of thorns. “And look,” He said, “see these scars on my back?” I turned my face in horror. But when He took my hand and grasped them with both of His, I wept as I felt two very deep scars; one on top of my hand from His hand and one underneath my hand from His hand.
He told me that His agape for me would take care of me above and beneath. His scars were proof of that agape.
I’m so glad that that He doesn’t like plastic surgery. However, I realized that my scars don’t matter anymore. His scars are all that matter now. For when I looked again at mine, they were gone, and I looked at Him again and saw them on Him where mine once were on me.
That’s what I think about it.