Scars That Propel

Dear Friends,

Every now and then, a story emerges in the “Created in the Image of God” series that crystallizes the entire reason we gather each week: to wrestle with the hard facts of our humanity, to hope for something greater, and to see more clearly the hidden gold within the trauma, the scars, and the ordinary sufferings of life.

This week, my conversation with South Africa’s Virginia Solomons took us deeply into precisely that territory. Hers is a story marked from the beginning by tragedy—an accident, childhood burns, years in the hospital, bullying, and the long, slow work of rebuilding a life from ashes and pain. Yet what emerges from her testimony isn’t bitterness or victimhood, but radiant purpose, authentic community, and a rare kind of beauty that demands to be seen on its own terms.

Let me draw out three intertwined lessons, each illustrated in Virginia’s life, that speak not just to those who have been visibly scarred, but to everyone with hurts the world cannot see.

1. Scars That Propel: Wounds as Portals to Calling

The language of trauma often focuses on what was lost—on brokenness, alienation, or the long shadow cast by early pain. But Virginia reorients the conversation entirely. “I grew up with the scars,” she recalls matter-of-factly. “I spent most of my childhood and teen years in hospital with plastic surgeries. But looking back, I believe that God was panel beating me at that point, for his plan and his purpose.”

How many of us view our deepest wounds as mere obstacles, things to be hidden, compensated for, or overcome? Virginia learned—through tears, struggle, and finally faith—that the very thing meant to limit or define her became the source of her strength. The “scars that propel” are not a cliche—she lives them. “At some point, I realized: If you have a problem with the way I look, it’s your problem, not mine.”

This isn’t denial; it’s transformation. Her scars became the anvil on which her sense of purpose, empathy, and mission were forged. And she reminds us all: your scars, visible or invisible, can be your launching pad for service and meaning. They mark not the end, but the beginning of your story.

2. The Community That Heals: Empathy in Action

Virginia’s life would surely look very different were it not for the “warriors” who stood by her side: siblings who protected and supported her, friends who refused to let her be isolated or shamed, teachers who saw her potential, and those few brave classmates—like the boy who once mocked her, and later became a true friend—who chose empathy over mockery, inclusion over exclusion.

She remembers, “Despite my scars, there were kids who… were just there. They would sit next to me in class and they wouldn’t worry about who says what.” Over time, her own pain shaped her to do the same for others: “I always make sure that I’m inclusive in whatever I do. If we’re somewhere as a group, and there’s someone by themselves, I would include them.”

We love “Created in the Image of God” not just because of theology or inspiration, but because it’s also a call to practical courage: Are you the champion someone else needs? What “small” gesture of standing with an “outsider” could re-route the whole arc of their story? Community becomes sacred when it enfolds, uplifts, and calls forth the beauty the world might otherwise miss.

3. Beauty Beyond the Surface: Dignity in God’s Gaze

In a world obsessed with superficial standards—airbrushed perfection, cosmetic quick-fixes, the exhausting cult of comparison—Virginia stands as a living counter-argument. Yes, she’s had plenty of opportunities to compare, to long for “normalcy,” or to wish the scars away. But the real revolution happened inside.

“When you are right with God on the inside, that is what reflects and that is what you believe… when people look at me, I forget that I have scars and when they stare, then I remember, oh yes, there’s still that. But for me, when you are happy with who you are as a person… when the inside is right, the outside really doesn’t matter.”

Part of her ministry to women (and to all) is to cut through the noise: “That void that is inside you… that you want to fill with plastic surgery, obsessing with the gym, obsessing with makeup— that void is a God-shaped void. And only God can fill that void.”

She reminds us—gently, but insistently—that beauty radiates most powerfully from a soul reconciled to its Maker. The world’s standards will always shift, but the dignity conferred by being “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139) is unshakable and utterly unique.

Takeaway

Whether your scars are written on your skin or buried in the heart, let Virginia’s story blaze like a beacon: Don’t hide your wounds or let them define your limits. Let them become catalysts for purpose. Seek out your “warriors,” but more importantly, be someone else’s champion. And most urgently, return daily to the truth that only God’s gaze confers true beauty and identity.

As Virginia put it: “What’s right with you is the starting point. What’s wrong with you is beside the point.”

If this story stirred you, like, share, or leave a comment. If you want to keep hearing stories that refuse cultural scripts and dare to look for God in the places of pain, please consider a paid subscription to help us keep these conversations flowing.

Coming up next: Don’t miss tonight’s live conversation with Dan Parr, the narrator and publisher behind the Easy-to-Understand, Read Bible — a growing movement helping thousands of people rediscover Scripture in a way that feels personal, clear, and alive.

Enjoy the preview below.