Real Beauty Often Includes Scars

This in honor of one of my life hero’s, my brother, Ryan. (Hopefully I’m quoting his life and words correctly.) Ryan is hugging SANTA, my husband.

When Ryan was three and a half, he was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer called rhabdomyosarcoma. Ryan endured two long years of chemotherapy, radiation and surgery. Against all odds and thanks to much prayer, my Make-A-Wish brother survived. But not without scars to prove it.

His physical suffering didn’t end there. As a teenager, he rode his bike up a homemade ramp and crashed, landing on his head. In the hospital, doctors told him he permanently damaged his tenth cranial nerve, which in turn, affected his swallowing and his voice.

This summer I got to know the “real” Ryan. I spent three days with him. Not under ideal circumstances. My grandpa died. I flew to Minnesota to attend the funeral and there met up with Ryan and my parents. Unfortunately, my other brother and sister weren’t able to join us.

Every night in the hotel room with my parents, Ryan and I laid there in the dark and talked. This was precious to me. Since I’m 14 years older than him, I felt like I never really got to know him. When I was in high school, I babysat Ryan, he was a baby. Back then, I had my mind set on other things. You know, boys and how fat and pale I thought I was.

Ryan is a wise young man. I asked him whether or not he thought about plastic surgery to widen his face. Radiation stopped his jaw bones from growing at age three. As a child, he visited numerous surgeons about reconstructive surgery. However, insurance wouldn’t covered it.

He replied, “I’ve thought about fixing my face, but then again, it wouldn’t be me.”

In that moment, my mind flashed to his email address, “cuztomguy@….. ” I realized Ryan accepts the custom face God gave him. That’s more than I can say. I struggle accepting my imperfections, like my varicose veins.

In another conversation, I asked Ryan about his dreams. He answered, “Yeah, I have dreams for myself, but most of my dreams are for other people.” I love that. Yet it hurt realizing I’m so self focused. I dream for others too, but my first dreams are all about me, what I want to accomplish, see, or become.

Ryan has an amazing heart that many might miss. His damaged voice doesn’t project loud enough in a crowd, so you’ll often find him silent. He’s blind in one eye, so if you’re on his left side he might miss your gestures. However, Ryan doesn’t miss what really matters. He genuinely loves and dreams for others, and he accepts himself, as a custom guy.

When I look at Ryan, I don’t see his scars, I see beauty.

***Want to say something to Ryan, post a comment. I know it will bless him!***

(c) 2005 Tiffany Stuart