A few months ago, I was talking to a friend about something I was struggling with in my faith while we were sitting by a lake. The point of being there was to actually go in, so everyone had bathing suits on. I sat and talked to her and I noticed that, as she was telling me her experiences in life, the tops of her legs were covered in scars. They were remnants left behind of battle wounds. They didn’t remind me of normal scars, though. She wore them in a way that showed she wasn’t proud to have them, but she was proud that they’re no longer battle wounds, and now they are scars. Scars meaning she put that behind her and said “No, I’m stronger than this”. The immediate thought that popped up into my mind that I had never thought of before was that scars are white for a reason. There may be doubts in my mind that God is there for me, but that day showed me that God made her scars beautiful and pure white where the crimson blood stains that had once been there were now gone; and he can do that to the scars on my heart too.