Showing Your Scars

Someone sent me a post the other day of my old swim teams, triggering a lot of emotions that I had vowed to never experience again. My stomach started to twist, my face heated, my head spun. Moments later, I envisioned myself back in the locker room, where I had once been physically paralyzed by fear.

I curled up in my dorm, hoping the thoughts would go away. After all, I had been trying to emotionally block the last couple years for good. Why would God allow those memories? We might feel like our wounds have healed, but we still have scars. We can do whatever we want to cover them up, but over time, the makeup will melt off and the scars will still show. John 20:24-29 tells us that even Jesus had scars. When he rose again, Jesus showed them on both his wrists, where he was nailed, and his side, where he was pierced. Jesus didn’t hide His scars because they told His story.

Our scars tell our stories. Let me tell you about mine.

When I look back at my swimming career, I wouldn’t say I simply had seasons of struggle, but rather layers of it. The first layer started in eighth grade. I was a mediocre 14-year-old training with 12-year-old prodigies. I felt like nobody believed in me, let alone acknowledged me. I can remember times where coaches forgot I even raced. I know I’m recalling a dark time from middle school and don’t we all have those? But the truth is, this was the foundation for everything that followed.

The next layer came in tenth grade. What could have been a healthy rivalry ended up being a cutthroat competition! My team treated relay spots with such cutthroat intensity, it tore all camaraderie apart. I was already struggling for recognition, but now I felt like people were after me.

What would make things worse? That question was answered in eleventh grade, when I became captain. It seemed like a good thing but only isolated me more. I will always remember the first time I was scared of putting my swimsuit on; the day my teammates refused to help me suit up for a meet; the day my coach said I wasn’t athletic; the first time I panicked at the sight of a pool. This was when the in-practice anxiety attacks started and although I was barely surviving, they never caught the attention of any coach. I was trapped in a current of suffering. Thankfully, God pulled me out.

Exactly one year ago, I slept through my alarm for the first time. It might sound anti-climactic but it was actually the morning that changed everything. What started as a small hint of tiredness progressed to constant fatigue, body aches, nausea, and even paralysis. I was given over one hundred tests, and all were negative. With the overwhelming amount of tests, I didn’t want to keep playing the guessing game so I just went with mono as the diagnosis. But in reality, to this day we still don’t know what I had! It was almost as if God wanted to sabotage my season so I wouldn’t get recruited into college swimming. But why? I was so caught up in wanting to prove myself as an elite athlete, that I forgot my true identity as a child of God.

We still don’t know what caused my sickness or what the sickness was. But as I look back, all I can see is the Holy Spirit. We’ve all heard stories of God healing sickness, but have you heard anything about God healing through sickness? It was through my sickness what I was truly healed spiritually. It was through my sickness that God brought me back to Himself and reminded me of what mattered most.

By seeking His Kingdom, I’ve learned to live out my identity in Christ (Matthew 6:33). When the Lord says He has intention behind everything, He is not kidding. My scars show all that led up to where I am now.

Our scars tell our stories. What is yours?

Katie Hoang

I'm Katie and I grew up in Dallas, where I swam for ten years. I am now a business and data analytics major at Trinity University, where I serve on the leadership team for our campus chapter of InterVarsity Fellowship. I am passionate about finding joy in the work I'm doing whether it's for school or building my career.