Impressions come in many forms. There are the impressions we make on others, either by how we look, or act, or how we make them feel. There are also impressions, like the ones that imprint a physical lasting mark, like a tattoo or a scar.
I have an impression, a scar, on my left ring finger. It is an indelible impression, one that will never go away, one that is permanent.
Over a year ago I noticed a frustratingly itchy rash on my ring finger, the ring finger where I wore my wedding ring. I figured the best was to alleviate the non-stop irritation was to remove my wedding ring.
Sure enough, it worked! Not over night, but eventually (and with the use of a good healing cream), the rash and it’s nasty irritation were gone.
But, I have yet to return to wearing my wedding band. I had gotten out of the habit of wearing it, and that is really saying something, because, other than the few times I was in a hospital, I had never removed my wedding ring (night or day) since my husband placed it on my finger, over twenty-two years ago.
Now, over a year after removing it, there is an impression of that ring still visible on my finger.
It has faded a bit, but only slightly. I have been altered by the symbol of the vow I made all those years ago. It is a permanent 
scar, forever there to remind me of that vow I made with my words.
That is what the impression of a scar does, it reminds us. It can remind us of when we were a child and suffered a deep wound. A scar reminds us of the surgery that may have saved our life. A scar reminds us of pain.
But a scar, like the one on my ring finger, can also remind us of the hope of a new life with someone, of dreams fulfilled, and ones yet to happen. It can remind us of overcoming pain, of beating struggles, of memories made, and secrets shared and children shared, and a sense of oneness with another that can only be shared by two who bear the same scars.
One of these days I will pull that gold band back out (or maybe hubby will) and place it back on my finger. Until then, there is a permanent scar, an indelible impression that reminds me every day of the past, and the present, and the future to come.
“Children show scars like medals.
Lovers use them as secrets to reveal.
A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.”
Leonard Cohen
A new year is a new beginning. It is a fresh, clean canvas. It is unmarred by blemishes or errors. It is empty.
Since it is still the first week of January, I figure it is not too late to talk New Years resolutions.
Many of us awake today, January 1, 2012, on the same day that we went to sleep. Whether we were at a rousing house party, a midnight mass, dancing with friends, drinking a warm cup of milk alone in the quiet of the night, or watching the ball drop in New York City (live, or, more likely, on the tube) we saw the new year in.
The language of the poem takes me to the time of Ebeneezer Scrooge, perhaps during the Industrial Revolution (late eighteenth to mid. nineteenth century), when child labor and beggars or every age were a norm. I have in my mind a picture of a weathered old man saying this rhyme with a Cockney English accent, while holding out his tattered hat to passers-by.
So, recently, I was checking out the song “Allelujah, Thine the Glory” by the group The Museum (who ‘borrowed’ the chorus from the hymn written in 1863, by William P. Mackay, then added their inspired verses). It is such an easily singable piece of music, with strong biblical theology throughout each verse.
itsawonderfilledlife 