Part One: Strength in Our Scars

 

Scars.

We all have them.

Whether it be emotional or physical scars, we all have experienced some type of trauma in our lives.

Each scar is very personal to our own life.

Scars do not define us, but they do make up who we are, because it is what we have experienced.

Each scar is unique and tells a story.

That story is highly personal and the thing with scars is, they live on in your heart forever. They become apart of you and they are the mark of a particular experience.

Because when an experience leaves a scar, it means it caused significant hurt in your life.

But the best thing about scars is that what ever tried to hurt you, did not succeed.

You are still here, breathing, living, and you are stronger than you know to be.

We may feel alone in our traumas we endure and it can be hard to open up about them as well, because we fear others will not understand.  I know I certainly have felt this fear all too strong.

But, I know Jesus understands our pain very well. He walks with us through our pain and our hardships we face. He especially understands scars specifically because He has physical scars from His crucifixion. The day that changed it all for us.

And someday, in Heaven, we will set our eyes on those actual scars that He endured so we may know Him and spend eternity with Him.

We can trust Him with our scars and if we believe and let Him, He can do more with our scars and traumas than we ever think or imagine.

What we think are imperfections or flaws on us and in us, He looks at them and calls them beautiful and can create amazing testimonies with.

 I have a physical scar that I have had since I was three years old. 

A scar that has a big, big story behind it and has shaped my entire life since I got it. 

My scar is subtle, but still noticeable on me. I have had many people tell me that they notice it, but they obviously don’t always ask how I got it.

And when I tell them, especially doctors what happened to me, they are looking at me with awe that the physical trauma that I endured, that it left a scar that small.

I used to not ever want to share with people my story of this scar, because I felt it would make people look or think of me differently.

I also did not want to share such a thing that is so personal to me. I fear that no one would understand what it feels like to have such a “rare” scar and go through such a rare experience, because most people do not know what that scar had caused in my body. When I tell people they hear me, but are always confused and do not ask any further questions to understand.

But, at this point in my life, I am comfortable and proud of myself for all I have endured and been through, concerning my scar. I am stronger from it.

I have found taking the time to go back in the past to trauma that I have experienced allows myself to see what God has done with each one of my hardships and it is very healing. 

He really can use our scars in beautiful ways and can bring good out of it. 

So here it goes…

The day of my accident, was a day like any other day. It was a fun day at a carnival with my mom, dad, and older sister. When we got back home from the carnival, my Dad went outside because he was going to clean up the yard where our dog was. Our dog was a very hyper dog and was always so excited when we came home and saw us.

From a young age, I always loved being right by my Dad’s side, so I followed behind him to the yard. But I was a bit further behind him. As I approached the concrete slab near the garage, our dog ran full speed into me and I flew up high in the air and I landed on my face onto the hard concrete.

I remember my Dad running over to me, holding me, and as I looked down his whole hand filled with my blood and pooled over onto the ground. I don’t remember any pain looking back, which is probably a good thing, but seeing all that blood pool up into my dads hand, I did not know what was happening and why I was bleeding so much.

I was scared.

I remember my Dad picking me up, running towards the car, put me in the back seat and driving close to 100MPH to the hospital.

When we arrived there, I remember the doctors cleaning me up and putting stitches in my lip. I needed 12 stitches. All my teeth were loose and my lips were torn and overall pretty banged up. My mom told me it looked so bad she was sure it would never look normal again. Thankfully, it all healed up very well and only left a scar on my bottom lip into my chin. The doctors did other tests and said I was good to go.

That night we left the hospital, I thought that was the last trip to the hospital, but unfortunately, it was just the start..

 

A few months later, my Mom had noticed a major change in me.

I was not eating much and began drinking like crazy! After I drank, I was thirsty right away again and could gulp another glass quickly. My mom took me to the doctor and they did tests and could not find anything wrong with me.

Well, we went home and I kept drinking a lot per day. My mom said I drank about 2 liters per day. I was a 25 pound, 3 year old. She said my body couldn’t handle all that liquid so I was just throwing it up everyday, all day.

Obviously that was not normal. So, my mom took me back to the doctors again and they ran tests and once again said there is nothing wrong with your daughter.

My mom was very persistent and obviously knew there was something wrong with me because she lived with me and my behavior changed in drastic ways.

So, she ignored the doctors, did her own research in her encyclopedias at home and after many days of reading, she was convinced and knew what was wrong with me.

She believed I had Diabetes Insipidus.

It was not Diabetes, but mimicked it. This type is called  Central Diabetes Insipidus and what it’s all about is my body not being able to conserve water.

My mom just knew in her gut that this is what I developed. After she read something that said it can happen after severe trauma to your head and take a few months to start noticing symptoms, she knew that my accident is what caused it. But even to this day if you say that to a doctor, they will say that it could not be proven that my accident is what caused it.

When I fell, my nose and the front of my face/head took most of the fall and in Diabetes Insipidus, the pituitary gland in your brain, is located directly behind your nose, so my fall jarred it and damaged it, so my pituitary gland is not able to secrete the hormone, vasopressin, which controls the amount of water your body is able to conserve. Which is why I was constantly thirsty. The liquid I was consuming was just going right through me.

So, my mom called the doctor and told them we need to test for this and at first, they did not believe her and said that it is very rare for me to have that, but my mom insisted, so they said the only way to truly test this is a 12 hour deprivation test, in the Pittsburgh Children’s hospital…

*Since this story is a bit more in depth and I don’t want to sacrifice any details, this blog post will be split up into two parts..

Next Friday, I will release Part Two of “Strength in Our Scars”…

Thank you for reading and walking this with me. I appreciate it more than you know!

 

All For Jesus,

Steph