Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house.
He flew into the water, not realizing that an alligator was swimming towards him. His mother in the house was looking out the window saw the alligator. She ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.
Hearing her voice, the little boy made a U-turn towards his mother. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached the boy. Then began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger, but the mother refused to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, and shot the alligator dead.
The little boy survived. His legs scarred by the alligator and, on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother’s fingernails dug into his flesh to hang on to the son she loved.
A reporter, who interviewed the boy asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs showing his scars. “I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn’t let go.”
We might have scars from an experience that shows us that Jesus Christ would not let go of us. He will never let go. The marks are not on our bodies but on His. Place your hand in the nail-scarred hands.
Happy Mother’s Day.