The Itch That Won’t Quit

I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, but I scratch my ears—a lot. And not just occasionally—pretty much all the time. It’s not just my ears either. There’s a stubborn patch on my head that drives me absolutely bonkers. It’s eczema. Not life-threatening, not even truly serious—but persistent, irritating, and frankly, a little embarrassing. Especially when those pesky flakes land on my dark-colored shirts. It’s… not a good look.

It’s something I deal with daily, but most folks don’t know it. They don’t see me trying to resist the urge to scratch during meetings or quietly brushing off my shirt between conversations. It’s one of those behind-the-scenes frustrations I carry with me—and I’m guessing I’m not the only one.

We all have something like that, don’t we? A hidden struggle—physical, emotional, or spiritual—that we manage in silence. It may not be dramatic or visible, but it shapes us all the same.

Someone recently said to me, “Getting older is tough,” and I couldn’t agree more. Our bodies wear down, our energy dips, our minds get a little foggy. And yet, even in the midst of this slow unraveling, I’m still in awe of how beautifully and intricately God designed us.

Years ago, when I was working as a chaplain, I was invited into the operating room to witness a skin graft. I watched as the surgical team took healthy skin from one part of the body and placed it near an amputation site. Over time, that skin would adapt and grow in a completely new place. It was nothing short of miraculous. God really did think of everything.

Still, even with all that wonder in mind, I’ll be honest—it’s hard when things don’t work the way they’re supposed to. When there’s no magic cure, just day-by-day management. When you’re trying to move through life and ministry with a literal (or metaphorical) itch no one else can see.

That itch—that hidden irritation—shapes how we live. It colors how we speak, how we react, how we treat others. It’s hard to carry an inner frustration and still be kind. Sometimes, our pain spills out sideways. We snap. We withdraw. We lose our joy.

So how do we manage that?

Maybe it starts by naming it—by being honest about whatever “itch” we’re carrying. Maybe it’s physical pain, lingering grief, unspoken anxiety, or a soul-deep weariness. Whatever it is, acknowledging it opens the door for grace. It lets us be gentler with ourselves—and with one another.

Because when we remember that everyone is carrying something, we begin to lead with compassion rather than judgment. We start to treat people not based on what we see, but what we don’t see.

That’s why I love Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians:

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.”

Even when our bodies don’t cooperate and our spirits feel stretched thin, God is still doing a renewing work within us. Grace keeps growing—even in the itchy, irritated places. Kindness can still rise—even from tired bones. And God’s mercy really is new every morning—whether you wake up feeling refreshed or flaky and frazzled.

So let’s be gentle—with ourselves and with others. God sees the whole of us. Even the parts that itch.  And we are still—always—wonderfully made.  See you Sunday.

Peace, Pastor Tracy