I have, just right of center on my forehead, a scar.
It's small now, but when I was a kid it was much larger.
I was one of those unfortunate few who actually had two bouts with chicken pox as a kid. These days kids don't get it, I don't think...until some super strain comes alive again.
But I had it twice. The first was a mild case, faint and brief. I barely remember it. The second bout, though, was worse: in my mouth, my ears, all over my body, pox marked me.
I remember my mother stayed home with me and I had one of my friends, also suffering from the pox, come over as well while I was out of school for those days. I was told to hug my brothers. If I was going to have it, we all had to get it.
And that scar? That scar was from one of the pox on my forehead. It itched so badly, and I scratched so hard...
That scar, though, was a reminder for me for the rest of my childhood to let wounds heal, and heal as well as possible. Don't pick at them, because they'll scar.
It was a bit of a blemish on my forehead (but let's be honest, it's not like I have a super stylish forehead anyway...and my hairline went ahead and added to the real estate up there, so you barely notice the scar anymore).
But that blemish was an ugly reminder for me.
This weeks gospel lesson (John 3:14-21) is all about ugly reminders. You may not think of it that way, but it is.
Go ahead and read it before I go on. I'll wait. It's too familiar for you to not actually read in full, so go ahead and
What do you know most from this section of John's gospel?