Skip to main content

Little pieces of broken glass, part one


I had the craziest fluke of an accident while traveling to teach. I stepped on something in my hotel room and it went through my "sleeper socks" and imbedded itself deep into the heel of my right foot! Now when you consider that some of the thickest skin on the human body is found on the hands and feet, it's not exactly an easy area to penetrate. The fact that I didn't see anything on the floor meant that I stepped down with full force, walking normally until I felt the sharp object penetrating my sock and my skin in one quick shot!

"Aaaaeeeeeee!" I screamed at great-day-in-the morning! I felt sort of sorry for any floor mates on either side of my room, because my scream would have made a scary alarm clock! Skin has nerve endings that tell us when we've been touched. My skin had been more than touched; it had been pierced, and I found out that morning that a little invisible sharp object can really, really cause a lot of pain!

Enter the tough girl: I got out my travel first aid kit and went to work. I propped my heel up backwards against the sink, then turned and awkwardly tried to fish around in the bloody little hole with a safety pin dipped in antibacterial ointment. No go. When I stepped down from my crude attempt at surgery, I could still feel the sharp pain of "something in there." End of tough girl routine. Time to pray.

I sat on the edge of the hotel bed and reminded the Lord that I was scheduled to teach five times, that I already had a terrible cold, and now this. And He reminded me that I was going to have a fantastic trip because I was weakened by these complaints. "And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (II Cor. 12:9)

And it was a great conference! I had such a wonderful time teaching, blowing my nose, coughing, and walking on the ball of my right foot! I'm not joking! It was a powerful time, as I experienced God's strength which was indeed made "perfect in weakness." Sometimes, we all need a fresh dose of weakness to really experience God's grace and strength. When was the last time you "gloried" in your infirmity?

The down side to this story is that I didn't get the foot checked out right away when I got home. In fact, I didn't even tell the dear people at the ladies’ retreat that I had this unidentified object in my foot. I didn't want it to be a distraction (on top of the head cold that I couldn’t hide). Once I got home, I had several reasons for delaying a trip to the doctor's office, including the fact that I thought it might "work its way out" over the next several days (skin does continue to grow and shed, you know). Since I had mastered walking with one heel slightly elevated inside my shoe, I thought I could tough this out until the skin layer with the "thing" in it worked its way  down and out...I hoped.

Well, this couldn't last. I walk fast and I am forgetful, too. So I was at the grocery store and forgot to keep my heel up. I stepped down normally and felt a strong jab in my foot, and that's when I realized that I'd better get this checked out after all. An x-ray at the podiatrist's office confirmed that I had either glass or metal deep in my heel, and surgery would be the only way to remove it. A week later, I as I was being hooked up to an IV while waiting for surgery, I said to my Norman, "A little thing has sure become a big deal, hasn't it?"

And that's the second parallel to this story: When we allow harmful little things to go unchecked, they may cause more damage over time.  "Little pieces of broken glass" continues in part two later this week...

"Every way of a man is right in his own eyes: but the Lord pondereth the hearts." (Prov. 21:2)



If this website has been a blessing to you, please visit the Shop page and consider buying a book or CD set. We appreciate your support of Keep the Heart!
www.keeptheheart.com 



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Parents Are Not Responsible for That

Parenthood is not a role for wimps or whiners. There are the exciting times such as music recitals, sports tournaments, and graduations. But if your tribe is like ours, you've probably also had the maddening moments, like the time one of our children discovered how to unfasten the tapes on his diaper and used the contents as "chalk" on the bedroom  wall (yes, it was "his," so that narrows the field of suspects). Children are young for a few blinks, and then we spin around and we're hearing "Pomp and Circumstance," that familiar graduation march as our "babies" walk down the aisle in cap and gown. If they choose to go on to college, four snaps later, we're sitting in the auditorium at their college graduation, scanning a long list of names in the commencement bulletin while waiting to watch them walk across the platform to receive yet another diploma. It's warp-speed fast (except that diaper stage). Parents don't min

Why Abishag and Not Bathsheba?

When you read Bible stories, do you ever wonder about things? I often wonder, and one story on my "wonder list" is the account of the aged King David and his lovely young caregiver named Abishag. David already had plenty of wives, including one very beautiful stolen wife named Bathsheba. When David was struggling to stay warm (Scripture says "he got no heat"), why didn't he call for Bathsheba? I wonder...and I'm going to hazard a guess that they had grown apart over the years. I can't prove it, but it can't be conclusively denied, either. Here's the Scriptural account, to refresh your memory: "Now kind David was old and stricken in years; and they covered him with clothes, but he got no heat. Wherefore his servants said unto him, Let there be sought for my lord the king a young virgin: and let her stand before the king, and let her cherish him, and let her lie in thy bosom, that my lord the king may get heat. So they sought for a fa

Wait-Hate

Sitting at what I was sure was the world's longest left-turn signal, I suddenly realized that I was being impatient for no good reason. After all, I was only waiting to turn left and then right...into the gas station. Not exactly like being late for an important date! Wait hate. Many of us struggle with it, and the impatience is making life unnecessarily miserable. Why do we hate to wait? I have some theories and good guesses, but it is possible that one of the biggest reasons why we can't even tolerate driving in a lane with a slow car in front of us is because we've been trained by our culture to expect everything instantly. Have you ever been "that person," driving and yelling "Move over, Pokey Joe!" even though your windows were closed and that other driver couldn't hear you? Tap. Swipe. Send.  Wait-Hate is learned, and this impatience is very costly. Instead of praying and allowing God time to provide direction and confirm