March 15th, 2010
Keys in Hand, literally
If I explained how it happened you might say I deserved it or call me careless or just put the mishap in the category of accidents that people make up out of boredom.
Opening the palm of my hand will speak for itself though. 2 days ago my skin was punctured right in the middle of my palm by keys. It hurt worse than any of my biking falls, head bangs, or trips. It stung then, and it still does today.
My hands inevitably play the drum beats to any good country song, but the pain soon demands that I stop my solo.
Gripping my hot coffee cup places pressure on that same little wound, causing me to nearly drop everything I’m holding– and doing.
High fives and shaking hands both bring my senses to attention and require intense concentration.
I find myself placing my left thumb into the center of the wound as if to alleviate pain, but now that it is healing, I cannot help but think about my saviors hands being pierced. Not by keys by accident, but by nails by choice.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5
What a perfect reminder as I near Easter. Grace is beautiful, but the sins that grace covers are anything but beautiful. Yet, grace covers them nonetheless. That is beautiful. By his wounds we are healed, are we not?
May the silly mishap help me stop what I’m doing, alert my senses, and bring me to consider.
