Dear Kitty,

Dear Kitty,

My oldest daughter got a splinter in her big toe. I heard her wailing and screeching long before I actually saw her. I stuck her up on the kitchen counter and grabbed my tweezers. I got a .07 second glance before she covered it back up and continued the screeching and added a secondary move of kicking  her feet.

The brief glimpse I got assured me that it was a tiny splinter and easy to remove. Unobstructed I could snatch it out in about .03 seconds. Yet those kicking feet and toe gripped firmly in her white knuckled fist was a definite obstruction.

10 minutes later I am still trying to wrestle that toe away. In a moment of stellar mothering (read HERE about my typical bedside manner with nursing those in my house) I raise my voice a little and demand she just give me the stinkin’ toe. As I gripped her foot in a vice grip, I told her to grab onto my arm, squeeze it as tight as she could and count to 10.

*Squeeze* “1, 2,…”

…and it was out.

Thank you, Dr. Mom has left the building. Here is a band-aid as a parting gift.

I warn her to not go without shoes or it will just happen again, as she runs out of the room without her shoes. I place the tweezers back, because I know this will happen again. I am prepared for the next extraction.

As I looked at the miniscule little splinter I had retrieved; I shook my head in disbelief of her hysterics. I could hear her recounting the story to her siblings and to hear her tell it the splinter was about the size of the limb that I have considered hanging a tire swing on. She had endured hours of surgery without anesthesia and she likely was about to lose her foot.

I scoffed a little to myself about her drama and then WHAM…a truth hit my heart.

How many times has a little thorn in my life caused me such distress and the more I worry about it the bigger it becomes? I hobble around wounded until I can take it no longer and then I go to the Healer. I clutch my pain to me as He urges me to just release it and become healed. I cling to it, more scared of letting go of my control of it than the actual healing that could take place.

He whispers to me to just release it to Him and hold to Him for strength. As soon as I release all control and allow Him to do what He needs, the thorn is removed. There is still a small sensitivity from the removal that reminds me of what He has done for me, but I run off to proclaim what He has healed me from. All the while He knows I will do it again and again. He is always waiting for me to come back.



Categories: Diary entry June

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