Everyone has a story to tell. Some are spoken gladly, others are hidden away in one’s heart. Every story wishes to escape the hearts and minds of those they belong to, but to whom will they be spoken? Only to those the heart can trust, will hear the story be told first hand.

Stories of obtaining scars are usually spoken about in a bragging manner. Happy to tell some experience of taking on multiple adversaries all at once, many people will gather around to hear the stories of bravery. The bigger the scar, the more outlandish the story becomes, the more heroic someone is made out to be. All it took was bodily damage and some time to heal and you now have an awesome story to tell the world.

What of the stories hidden away? What kind of story do the hidden scars tell? Down in the abyss of everyone’s heart are stories of tremendous pain and agony. Not wishing for these stories to surface in our lives we hide them away. Under lock and key these scars can either fade in time, or grow even deeper, wider, larger, consuming who we are. The stories cry out from the darkness, screaming to be told…but who can they trust? So, there they remain, waiting and listening for someone to unlock the heart and set free the stories the scars contain.

Smile and the world notices,

laugh and the world gathers,

Divulge and the world listens,

Frown and the world turns its eyes,

cry and the world turns its back,

Hideaway and the world forgets,

Put on a mask and the world reconsiders…

No doubt there are those with more scars than others, deep scars that pain the soul, entangling the heart. Longing to relieve the pain the heart seeks out another to help soothe the pain, to tell its story. Once someone is found, the heart tends to gush forth with all of its hidden stories. Seething scars are now being exposed to a trustworthy heart. The listener must have a strong heart to bear the stories being told. For these stories may pain not just the storyteller. The heart of the listener will take these stories upon itself, adding to its own scars. The stronger of the hearts must be careful what it tells the weaker for a time. In order to allow the weaker heart to recover from opening up its scars. Both must take what they can bear and adjust.

In order to set a bone, it may have to be broken again. Just as the soul may have to break open its scars in order to make the pain just a little fainter. Scraping away the callous the scar gets smaller, shallower, less-gripping. Scars are never fully healed, they may grow faint or even be forgotten for a time, but there they will remain. Does time heal? Perhaps, but the soul takes more than time to recover from deep wounds. It needs to share its story, it longs and seeks to speak, it screams to be set free from the heart. 

Silence from the mouth causes loud chatter in the mind…making a sane man go mad!

Everyone has a story to tell. A quiet soul is strong, able to listen and bear what it hears. Seldom does it speak, many secrets it holds, many hearts it holds. Scarred, yet unscarred. Concerned, yet unconcerned. For itself it does not live, but for others it thrives. Lending a piece of its heart to another in need, even if just for a time.


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