“See, I have you engraved on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.” -Isaiah 49:16
Quick tapping noises foretold the sight of a young student descending the stairs. Still a novice, the student was excited and curious, always looking for an adventure, a mystery, a story. The gate beckoned, it was time to go exploring. There was so much to do! More things to see! And, best of all, the day had barely begun! Flying down the steps, the student raced through the garden, hardly glancing to the left or to the right when suddenly arrested by an image.
To the left, on a bench next to the marble white fountain, sat a man alone. Though the student had never met the man, his identity was clear. The man was THE War Hero! Upon his return from war, he was so disfigured with scars that he no longer resembled his former self. Scars, from thin and light to deep and angry red, covered his entire body. Deep indentations were in his wrists and side where he had been pierced. There was great fanfare and celebration when he returned home a hero. Everyone knew of and revered him.
Creeping silently closer, the student received a better view of the man’s face; he seemed to be caught in fond reminiscance. What was he thinking about? What did he know? About to step closer, the student thought better of it and turned to leave.
“May I show you something?”
Spinning around at the clear baritone voice, the student stared in disbelief at the War Hero. Looking around and seeing no one else, the student clarified, “Me?”
Nodding, the man smile. “I want to share a story with you. Will you sit with me awhile?” The man’s gentle hands patted the empty seat next to him. Glancing once at the path behind, the student rushed to the bench. Gingerly sitting down, the student glanced nervously at the War Hero, seeing the scars that lined his face and throat. The man’s eye’s softened in understanding and he held his right arm out, rolling up his sleeve.
A long angry scar running down the length of his arm, ending at the circular piercing at the man’s wrist. “I want to tell you a story,” he began. “See this scar I have? I want to tell you about the beautiful, creative woman I received it for. You see, when I was fighting the enemy, I knew about this woman who had been captured. In fact I knew all about her, though I didn’t know her. She was beautiful, with a gorgeous mane of hair and bright eyes. Her smile literally glowed and when she walked into a room the whole atmosphere lifted up. She was amazingly creative, coming up with wonderfully unique ideas. Also, she was crazy smart and quick-witted, a born leader. But above all she had a kind heart, filled with so much love.” The War Hero sighed. Joy filled his face and his eyes became distant, as if she were in front of him now. The student felt as if the man was talking about his bride.
All of a sudden the man’s face clouded with anger, surprising the student. “But she was deceived and trapped by the enemy. They captured her, put her in chains, lied to her. They tried to ruin her–her identity and her beliefs. They wanted to destroy this perfect person!
“I searched and searched for her, calling her name. They left her in a cage in the dark. She was weak from hunger, thirst, and without light. But when she saw me…” The Hero’s voice seemed to almost choke. “When I finally reached her, her weak voice called out to me and she stretched both of her arms through the bars of her cage towards me.”
The student sat with clenched fists and eager anticipation as the man lightly traced the scar on his arm with his left hand. “I fought for her. I fought hard. It was difficult because of all the lies the enemy told her. First, I showed her how much I cared and loved her, crying out to her ‘Come away, my Beloved!’ She began to trust me and I broke the bars holding her in. We started to get away but it was slow and painful. The chains the enemy placed on her were pulling on her and weighing her down. One by one we snapped the chains in half, until she could run freely with me. The entire time the enemy attacked us from all around and I protected her. I fought them all off, taking the blows meant for her. The enemy tried to trick her to come back to them, but we held tightly to each other as we ran into the light. We escaped the dark!”
The War Hero’s eyes lit with a fiery passion as his words came faster and faster, “We ran from that place. At first she had trouble because she was weak, so I carried her. But she gained strength until we could run together, side by side, hand in hand. Those were grand days! We explored our new friendship, learning more about each other. I constantly reaffirmed my love for her. I reminded her of who she truly was; she was not a slave, she was not worthless, ugly, rejected, or unlovable. She was not weak or evil. She was beautiful, a perfect creature of creation. She as the precious daughter of a Beloved Father, unique, enjoyable, fun, wanted, needed, sought after, and found. She was so talented in numerous ways and loved! It took her awhile to understand but she saw the truth. We spent many nights singing under the stars and many days running through fields and forests. It was wonderful to see how she grew and blossomed.” His gaze grew distant with a pleasant smile.
“I don’t regret the fight, the wounds, the scar. It was a bloody fight with enemies on every side. This scar I received was when they tried to separate our hands, but no matter how much pain I felt or how much blood I lost, it was all worth it and I would immediately do it all over again for her. I literally died to save her. These are the scars to prove it.” The War Hero held out his hands and the student saw the piercing circular scars in his wrists. “These scars are a testimony, a witness to her freedom. She is literally engraved on my body and her name can never be erased. I also call her one of my own. She is free now and we are so much closer than ever before. She calls me everyday and we talk about everything. We still sing at night under the stars and run through meadows hand in hand. Her laugh is gorgeous and infectious. I cannot help but smile and laugh when I’m with her. She is living life to the fullest and I am so incredibly proud of her!
“Her name is here on my hands and I cannot be more proud to have it there, where everyone can see it and know she is mine. This scarred hand and arm will forever be outstretched to hers. She will see it and always know how much she means to me. See this scar I have? I earned it for the most important person in the world to me.”
