This is a reprint from my December devotions for the Gentle Christian Mothers. I got such good feedback I wanted to share it with you.
I want to warn you: This devotion is kind of shallow. It deals with my feelings and thoughts about having moderate-to-severely scarred skin on my face. It maybe self-indulgent but it’s also an example of God and how He provides for me. It’s one of those things that are important to me, but may not be important to you.
I went to the dermatologist today. (I went to the psychiatrist today too, but that’s a different story.) About three months ago my skin started breaking out like crazy. These pimples chose patches on my face in the strangest places. I’d have thick stripes going down my neck. I’d wake up with a new pimple every morning. I’ll spare you further details, except to add in my distant pass I was put on the super doper acne medication, Acutane, which I recommend to anyone who is on the border on it.
Anyway, the doctor and a medical student were examining me and he was calling out flaws or abnormalities – white heads (who knew I had white heads?)
“You have a lot of freckles?” (My mom always promised they’d fade as I grew older. I never understood her point. I love my freckles)
“Scars – moderate to severe”
Wait! What? What did he say? That my scars are severe? How dare he!
Okay, to be fair, I knew that. There was a reason I went on Acutane was not just to punish my life and give me chapped lips. I had severe, cystic acne, the nastiest kind.
Now, you could know me and possibly not recognize my scarring. But probably not. I wear make-up nearly everyday and I cover them up. So what? I live in reality. Why does is matter what this doctor said?
To tell you the truth I’d been feeling pretty good about the way I look. I know I’m never going to be Sophia Lauren or Pamela Anderson, but I wasn’t looking all that bad. In face, someday I felt darn right good about my self. I’d been playing with my hair trying to get it to be the same color when I was a child. I had succeeded. I’d lost over twenty pounds. My clothes were fitting better, I’d been exercising. Everything I had control of was going well.
So why did this guy embarrass and shame me? Maybe it’s the Bible’s fault. So many of the sacrifices call for spotless animals. My body as a sacrifice would not be accepted. I have surgery scars, “moderate to severe” acne scares and I’m covered with moles. I’m not what anyone looking for a sacrifice would choose.
But Jesus is perfect for that sacrifice. He is without blemish and without flaw. He steps up as my advocate and intercedes on my behalf. I never will be flawless on my own, but Christ transforms me into the one who is truly beautiful. The Bible is specific about Jesus being flawless – (1 Peter 1:9-21) “but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. Through him you believe in God, who raised him from the dead and glorified him, and so your faith and hope are in God.”
I don’t know very much about this site but I like the verses they chose http://bibletab.com/b/blemish.htm to describe what it means to be without blemish in Christ.
I think that the most important thing I am doing this Christmas, saving taking care of my little family, is writing these devotions. None of you call my “Old Pockmark” behind my back. I’m pretty sure the readers in real life don’t call me “Pizza Face” And even if you are, my “defect” is not keeping at least some of you. I have compassion for myself and for you, and I don’t need perfect skin to do any of the things that are important – pray – praise – weep – guide and even heal.