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From: Lidya Budi Astuti
Sent: Sel 10/02/2009 15:48
To: [email protected]
Subject: Scars of Love


Scars of Love
-- Author Unknown                     
                        
Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida a little boy decided to go 
for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into 
the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and 
shirt as he went.
 
He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the 
lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore. His mother in the house was 
looking out the window saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In 
utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she 
could. Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to 
swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator 
reached him. From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just 
as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between 
the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was 
much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard er screams, 
raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.
 
Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His 
legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his 
arms, were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in 
her effort to hang on to the son she loved.
 
The newspaper reporter, who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he 
would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious 
pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my 
arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn't let go."
 
You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. Not from an 
alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly 
and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God 
has refused to let go. In the midst of your struggle. He's been there holding 
on to you.
 
The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to 
protect you and provide for you in every way. But sometimes we foolishly wade 
into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of 
life is filled with peril - and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. 
That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on 
your arms be very, very grateful. He did not and will not ever let you go.
 
Never judge another person's scars, because you don't know how they were made.

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