I declare in Jesus’ name that Jesus paid the price for me. He is a mighty warrior and his scars are eternal proof of his life, death and resurrection. I will not doubt or fear!


Jesus’ resurrected body could look like anything. He could be any race or every race. He could be tall or short. He could look like anything he wanted, but know this. Whatever he looks like, he keeps his scars. 

“But Pastor Troy, Jesus is the son of God. He’s perfect. Doesn’t that mean he doesn’t have any scars?

No. That means you and I don’t have any scars, but Jesus keeps his. You see, King Jesus is a warrior. He’s not a dad-gum hippy. He’s the original bad motor scooter who took on hell with a water pistol. When he walks into a room, all of heaven takes notice:

Lift up your heads, O you gates! Lift up, you everlasting doors! And the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord of hosts, He is the King of glory. Selah – Psalms 24:9-10

The Word calls him the Captain of the Lord’s Armies, or the “Heavenly Host.” They are some supernatural bad cats, and Jesus is the baddest cat of them all. Warriors dig scars. They are the spoils of war, proof of combat. Warriors are proud of them because they tell a story. 

What story do Jesus’ scars tell? Yours. Mine. It’s crazy cool. 

Not only does he keep his scars because he’s proud of them, he keeps those scars so nobody can ever say he did not give his life to redeem us. The devil’s got no ground to stand on. The scars are proof. Our doubts are erased the minute Jesus holds out those nail-scarred hands. Just ask him. He’ll be glad to show you.