” And make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.” Hebrews 12:13; The Holy Bible, ESV
Hi Guys! I know! Two entries in a week?! Oh yeah….it’s happening. During my commute from work, The Lord reminded me of something from my childhood that’s making have several Baptist fits in my head. *Gets tissues and 300 thread count sheets* (if you’ve haven’t been exposed to a Baptist or Pentecostal church, you may be confused, sorry) Anyway, story time!
When I was in 4th or 5th grade, I was in dance class, reluctantly obeying the teacher command of behaving like a tree in the breeze or something that wouldn’t relive future student loans, when the bell rang and it was time to go. My escape finally came and I could be released to English class ( My fav! right behind art at the time.) I eagerly rush the door! so fast, in fact, that I carried my shoes in my hands until I made it down the wooden ramp, partially covered in anti-slip paint. When I got to the bottom to put my right shoe on, I noticed a small splinter in the center of my foot. I tried to pull it out, but somehow managed to push it in further; so, with no luck and the urgency to make it to class, I put my shoe halfway on and hobbled to class.
By the time school was over, I had managed to push the small splinter into my foot and had no pain. As a matter of fact, I forgot about it…until the next day around the same time. By the end of dance class, my foot started to become sore, I convinced myself that I’d be fine and I’ll try again to pull it out. I DID NOT want to tell my parent about it, out of fear of being mom’s opportunity to be a surgeon and dad’s ability to teleport you to a hospital and talk me down from insanity from the mere thought of needing a shot or IV.
By day 3, I was balancing my life on one leg, the entire school day. After lying to concerned teachers about twisting my ankle running around with friends, I decided I had to tell my parent, because this pain wasn’t worth the fear. So with a chest full of anxiety and a mind full of horrific images on my foot being cut open by a beautician and electrician, I tell them….and yep you’re right! They throw me on our gray, circle couch and each ran in different directions to collect the surgical tools necessary such as: a flashlight, 2 sewing needles and 1 large hair sewing needle, ( My Black girls knows exactly what I’m talking about!) spool of thread, a hand held mirror and a cigarette lighter..to ya know, sanitize the needles (insert fake news emoji). Well, At the end of it all, my parents got the splinter out, although it took about 1hr and 30 minutes, some serious prayers in the middle of “surgical attempts” along with a few curse words and my nerves in a puddle at the base of my head. My foot wasn’t cut open and the pain was minimal.
What’s the point? Well, for those that have stuck around for this long, the point is that sometimes in life, we move so fast trying to escape an unpleasant season, thing or experience, that we run out with being properly covered. God covers us and provides us with ways (The Bible, worship, prayer, etc…) to keep our minds, hearts and souls under HIS spirit. Being without HIS covering, we become vulnerable to splinters, Paul called these thorns; these are small pieces of evidence of the things we’ve exposed ourselves to. Many people are just like myself, We know the splinter is there, yet we DECIDE to move on because it’s not a hinderance at the time. We intend to see to it in the privacy of our lives, however, we don’t have the knowledge, maturity or especially in this case, the vantage point to deal with it. In this season you’re in, go to God, tell him about your splinters. He’s the only one who can take them all out without destroying you. If you let the splinter sit and fester, you’ll expose more due to your limp and could possibly lose more than you nerves. Let HIM do it. Peace and blessings!
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