When I first saw the photo of me holding Stella — IV lines running across my arms, bandages showing, my body weak but still holding on — part of me didn’t want to keep it. Part of me wanted to remember the sweet moment of her in my arms without all the reminders of how close we came to losing everything.
But then I paused and thought: You know what? I am proud of this picture.
Scars that Speak
These scars, these IV marks, the exhaustion on my face — they aren’t signs of weakness. They’re evidence that I fought hard. They’re reminders that God spared my life. They tell a story: I almost died, but I am still here. I held on for my daughter, and even more than that — the Lord held onto me.
The Bible tells us, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV)
My weakness has never been so visible. My arms and body show it. My tired eyes prove it. And yet, these scars are not the end of my story — they are where God’s strength has shined brightest.
A Gospel Reminder
In many ways, these scars remind me of the greatest scarred hands of all — the hands of Jesus. The scars that prove His sacrifice, His victory, and His love for us. He bore the cross, died for our sins, and rose again so that we could have life — eternal life, abundant life, redeemed life.
Because of the Gospel, I can sit here today not only thankful that I survived childbirth complications, but even more thankful that Christ has given me life beyond this moment. My scars will fade, but His scars remain forever as proof of His victory over sin and death.
“He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5, ESV)
Gratitude in the Hard
I won’t pretend it’s easy. I am tired, soul tired. I am grieving losses, navigating hospital days, and still processing what happened. But in the middle of it all, I find myself overflowing with gratitude.
Grateful for the baby girl who snuggles against my chest.
Grateful for the husband who whispered, “Don’t you die. You fight.”
Grateful for family and friends who have prayed, brought meals, and reminded me I’m not alone.
And most of all, grateful for a Savior who never let go of me in my darkest moment.
Choosing to Cherish
So yes — I’ll keep this photo. Not because it’s picture-perfect, but because it tells the truth. It tells the story of survival, of miracles, of grace. It shows the battle I fought, but even more, it shows the God who carried me.
I’ll cherish this picture because it points me to the goodness of God. His mercy sustained me. His hand spared me. His Gospel gives me hope beyond the hospital room.
“The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad.” (Psalm 126:3, ESV)
✨ If you’re carrying scars of your own — whether visible or hidden — I want you to know this: they can tell a story too. Not just of your pain, but of God’s sustaining grace. Let them point you, and others, back to the goodness of a God who redeems every broken piece.
Thanks to Redmond Photography for capturing these precious moments at the hospital.
Living Life with a Purpose 