I have wanted to do some blogging, but haven't been able to type until a few days ago. The picture is of my right index finger. Three weeks ago, I was opening a folding cot at the local Fred Meyer store. I thought that the legs on it would be stiff to open since it was brand new. I gave a little extra pull on them and they came flying around. Before I could realize what had happened. The joint of the legs had caught and pinched my finger. I felt the edge of the leg joint as I pulled them off of my finger. I knew then that it would be more than just a pinch. The cut was so deep that I could see the base of my fingernail. I quickly grabbed the finger as tight as I could so that it wouldn't bleed until I was able to get to the restroom. The pain was so bad that I thought I would vomit and pass out. I had to tell myself to take deep breaths and to keep walking. Once I got to the restroom I quickly and as gently as possible wrapped the finger with lots of paper towel.
Jerry, my beloved husband, had put the cot back in its case and was heading my way when I came out of the restroom. I told him we needed to go to Urgent Care because I was sure that it needed stitches. The pain was overwhelming and I was not able to put on my seatbelt when I got in the car. It required both Rebekah and Jerry to tackle that task.
When we got to Urgent Care I was able to get into a room within half an hour. That is quick considering how long I have had to wait at other times. It was then that I had to remove my left hand from my right finger. Then they soaked the finger in soapy water. Next, the doctor came in and began to clean the cut. The pain that had gone from level 10 to level 5 went right back up to level 9. (At least I didn't feel like vomiting anymore.) The doctor tried to be as gentle as she could, but she had to get the wound open to see how deep it was. She told me it was down to the bone and would require a couple of stitches. The skin was too thin to put in any more than that. At last she gave me a shot to numb the area. It only brought relief to the immediate cut and the rest of the finger continued to hurt. Some of the worse pain was when the nurse came in later and tried to clean off the blood and apply the bandaging.
I was glad to finally get home and be able to take some pain medication. I had to take two which barely took the edge off of the pain. I thought that it would make me fall asleep, but instead it took me to a "mellow" place and got me to thinking about Jesus on the cross.
The pain that I suffered was nothing compared to the pain that Christ had to endure when he hung upon the cross. Spikes were driven through his hands and feet. He hung from them for many hours. The full weight of his body pulled upon the wounds in his apendages. To be able to breathe, he would have to force himself up which would only make the pain even worse. This was true torture. No pain medication did he receive. He refused to take any when it was offered to him. And why did he endure this excruciating pain? For my sins! For your sins! For the sins of the whole world!
All of the sudden, the pain in my finger felt like nothing in comparison to the pain that my Saviour suffered for me. Instead it allowed me a tiny glimpse to what he felt. I truly cannot imagine all of the pain that Christ Jesus felt. It had to have been horrendous. And when I think of him doing that for me, I love and admire him even more.