of jars and scars.

One of my pet peeves is reused jars that still have the wrap-around label on them...

AND SO... This morning I was washing the breakfast dishes and... there was two of those horrible jars... It was nearing 8:00 and I really should have been going to work, but I scrubbed those crazy labels off- or at least I tried. That glue stuck hard, I laid it- glue down into the water and hoped that till I finished the rest of the dishes it would decide the use of sticking was no longer revelant. And then it struck me- that jar was scarred. It as scarred for a reason. It was not really a BAD thing, but it was to teach me a lesson.

What I've been through does not define WHO I am, WHAT I've made of myself, because without Christ- I'm NOTHING. What others think of me should not affect what I know Jesus has done for me. I know He has set me free- no, that does not mean I live a perfect life. No, that doesn't mean I don't ever mess up. And no, that doesn't mean some people have a hard time forgiving me for what I've done. But I love the word picture When God Ran paints. He forgives. And He loves me none-the-less. I feel so unworthy, but He loves me just the same, even if I wouldn't accept it. I'm flawless- you're flawless. The mistakes you've made don't define you. The scars you have are meant to teach you. To carve you into the person God wants you to be. You don't need to hide them to be perfectly whole.

>>Praise God, we don't have to hide scars
They just (strengthen our wounds), and they soften our hearts.
{They remind us of where we have been, but not who we are}.<<

Stained Glass Masquerade

Is there anyone that fails?

Is there anyone that falls?

Am I the only one in church today feelin' so small?

'Cause when I take a look around

Everybody looks so strong.

I know they'll soon discover

That I don't belong.

So I'll tuck it all away, like everything's okay.

If I make them all believe it, maybe I'll believe it too.

So with a painted grin, I play the part again,

So everyone will see me the way that I see them.

Are we happy plastic people,

Under shiny plastic steeples,

With walls around our weakness,

And smiles to hide our pain?

But if the invitation's open

To every heart that has been broken

Maybe the we close the curtain

On our stained glass masquerade.

Is there anyone who's been there?

Are there any hands to raise?

Am I the only one who's traded 

In the altar for a stage?

The performance is convincing

And we know every line by heart.

Only when no one is watching

Can we really fall apart.

But would it set me free

If I dared to let you see,

The truth behind the person

That you imagined me to be?

Would your arms be open,

Or would you walk away?

Would the love of Jesus

Be enough to make you stay?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRUJrjUGGfg&feature=youtube_gdata_player