Life-Giving Words of Hope & Encouragement

There’s a tree just outside my home. It’s not especially tall or beautiful, but it holds a sacred purpose in my life. I call it my “Worry Tree.” Each day, before I step into my home, I pause to touch that tree. With that small act, I symbolically hang up every worry, weight, and burden I carried throughout the day. The frustrations, disappointments, and scars—I leave them on that tree so they don’t follow me through the door. It’s a practice that reminds me of the power of release.

Similarly, I remember my days at the dojo. We’d remove our shoes before stepping on the mat—not just as a sign of respect, but also as a ritual. As we left our shoes in the rack, we symbolically left the chaos of the world behind. What waited for us inside was discipline, focus, and growth. We didn’t carry the outside world with us—we met ourselves honestly, with no excuses.

Those simple routines taught me something profound: you have to be willing to let go of the pain if you want to walk into purpose.

Every scar we carry has a story. A betrayal. A failure. A loss. A harsh word. A moment of fear. And though we can’t always stop the pain from happening, we can choose what it becomes. Will it be a chain or a chisel? Will it make us bitter, or will it make us better?

I’ve come to learn that the opposition we face in life doesn’t define us—it reveals us. Just like pressure reveals the strength of metal, life’s challenges expose what’s already inside of us. The choice is always ours: crumble or climb.

Each day, I help people navigate hurt. Whether it’s grief, rejection, or lingering shame, I see the heaviness they carry. And something I often say to them—and to myself—is: “Learn to love what you hate.” I don’t mean tolerate abuse or accept injustice. I mean look at the hard places, the painful lessons, and choose to find purpose in them. Find the blessings even in the burdens.

You see, your scar is not your sentence—it’s part of your story. And God is the Master Author.

What if the very thing you hated most about your past became the thing God used to shine His light through? What if your scars weren’t something to hide, but something to hold up as proof that you survived—that you overcame?

I think of Joseph, betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, thrown into prison. So many scars. Yet in the end, he looked them in the eye and said, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good” (Genesis 50:20). Joseph didn’t deny the pain—but he also didn’t let it define him.

Jesus, too, carried scars. After the resurrection, He could’ve appeared flawless. Instead, He showed His disciples His nail-scarred hands. Why? Because the scars told a story of victory. They weren’t marks of shame; they were signs of salvation.

And so it is with us.

God can take what you thought would destroy you and turn it into a testimony that heals others. He can take your deepest wounds and use them as doorways to compassion, strength, and influence. When we let go of what hurt us, we make room for what will heal us.

That’s why I touch the worry tree. That’s why I leave my burdens in the shoe rack before stepping onto the dojo mat. That’s why I teach others to love the lessons hidden in what once felt like loss. Because true healing doesn’t come from avoiding pain—it comes from redeeming it.

Letting go is not weakness. It’s strength. Forgiveness is not surrender. It’s freedom.

So today, I want to encourage you: Don’t be ashamed of your scars. They’re not signs of failure—they’re stars that shine with the light of every battle you’ve won. You made it. You’re still standing. And God isn’t done writing your story.

Let Him take your scars and make them shine. I hope this speaks to you, and I pray you have a blessed day!