A Scar

This past week I had surgery on my hand to remove a spot of cancer. The surgeon said that cancer has roots and he wouldn’t know how deep it was until he got in there. Thankfully, he removed it all and stitched me back up. There will be a scar forever on my left hand.

During this whole ordeal, I could not help but think of how this seems so much like sin. We never know how deep our sin is or how much damage it does. Are we not so thankful that Jesus died for our sin before we were ever born? He removed what would kill us, separate us from Him for all eternity, by dying in our place. I cannot even imagine the pain He went through to pay such a price, but that is how much we are worth to Him. You know, I have never read anywhere that He received stitches for His wounds, but I do know He has scars on His hands too. And every time I see this scar, I will remember the price He paid for me.

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