17/09/2025
SCARS IN MINISTRY
TAKE NOTE MY SON THE ANOINTED
You’ve put your hands to the plough. Your eyes burn with vision. Your feet have stepped into territories marked by fire and blood. But hear me WELL ministry will leave you with scars.
Yes, real scars. Scars not on your skin alone, but in your soul.
You will be misunderstood, even by the ones you are dying to save. You will be betrayed by those you fed, slandered by the ones you sheltered, and abandoned in the moment you need shoulders the most.
But my son, don’t curse the SCARS, wear them with honour.
Scars are not signs that you failed. They are proof that you stayed.
Look at Paul. He said, “I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus” (Galatians 6:17).
Those were not poetic LINES, they were real wounds from stones, stripes, hunger, and rejection. Yet those scars shouted louder than any sermon: this man paid the price!
The crown is beautiful, but the cross precedes it.
There are nights you will cry alone after pouring yourself out for people who never return to say "thank you."
There are times your wallet will be empty because you chose souls over silver.
You will feel the sting of loneliness, the ache of delayed promises, the weight of unanswered questions.
These are the moments that carve scars.
But hear me, son: the anointing flows best through broken vessels. The oil flows through cracks. And those scars? They qualify you to heal others.
When Jesus rose, He didn’t hide His scars. He showed them to Thomas. Why? Because scars speak.
They say, “I’ve been THERE, I conquered.” A scarred man can comfort the wounded. A scarred preacher carries credibility in the spirit.
So don’t hide them. Don’t be ashamed of them. Your scars are not signs of weakness they are medals of honour in the spirit.
One day, you will look at a young preacher like yourself. You will see the same fire in his eyes. And you will show him your scars, just like I’m showing you now. And you will say, “I stayed. I endured. And it was worth it.”
Keep preaching, son. Keep loving. Keep bleeding if you must. One day, the wounds will close, and the scars will shine like gold. Until then, walk boldly, even with a limp. You’re not alone.
