Monday, October 02, 2006

Scarred For Life

Like pretty much everyone, I have visible scars.

The first one I remember getting stitches for is on my chin. I was 4, and we lived in Fairfield, Alabama (birthplace of the great Willie Mays). You know, I was standing on some chair and had my palms on the counter and I was pushing up with both arms. Whenever I reached for whatever I was after my other arm wasn't strong enough to hold me up and my chin went straight into the counter. One stitch, but lots of blood.

I have another one on my left knee. Fell on a bike and my knee hit the pedal, but that one's almost disappeared now.

The third one is on my right shin--and it's a good one, too. Really impressive. Long story and one I've told over and over but the long and short of it is that I ran into a set of bleachers chasing a foul ball down. I wound up breaking my shin to the degree that emergency surgery was involved and I had a plaster cast up to my hip for six weeks. It even had a squared plaster "door" in it held on with sterile tape as they had to treat the wound to keep it from getting infected. No stitches were used as they wanted to keep it clean, hence, the huge scar.

Then I have one on the back of each knee. See, I was building a swing set for one of my daughter's birthday presents. The set was more than just swings--it was one of those deals where you haul off and go to Home Depot, buy a set of plans & the nuts/bolts & the wood and then come home and assemble it. Anyway, everything was going surprisingly well for me (I'm horrible at home projects of this nature) with the exception of the beam that spans the length of the set. See it was 12" wide and 12' long...the main problem was the last one: I only had a 6" long drill bit. So, when I measured and drilled one of the bolt holes was a quarter inch off. My father-in-law was over and I sought his advice (he's no better at home projects of this nature so it was a pooling of ignorance) and we decided to try to bend the wood just enough to get the bolts through rather than press our luck with another attempt at re-drilling a 12" beam with a 6" bit. As I was pushing he was trying to put the bolt in and we we SO CLOSE until the "a-frame" support behind us--with the metal bracket on the top to support the beam--fell directly onto the backs of both my knees. The doctor, who had lots of time for conversation while he put in the 30 staples and 40 stitches, told me that if it hit me in the head it would've killed me. One of my friends came over with a Mikita power drill and finished the job in about 6 seconds.

And, like pretty much everyone, I've got some invisible scars as well.

My dad died when I was 13. That scar flares up from time to time...you know, those moments where you graduated from his alma mater or married a girl he would've loved or wondered what the look on his face would be when he held his granddaughters.

My high school girlfriend gave me one. Took two solid years to get over that one--and never lets me "ho-hum" it when some 17-year-old tells me they are in love. It was serious business to me then, even if time really did cause that scar to heal quite nicely and make me smile now when I get to brag about what a great high school girlfriend I had.

The first ministry I was involved in had a boss that was financially irresponsible and almost destroyed a lot of potentially great opportunity for ministry. That scar gave me a nice callous.

And I got a couple lately that I'm not exactly sure how big they are or how nicely they'll heal...

...my Mom passing away this summer...

...and the current situation as my church...

The wounds are too fresh on both of those and while one of them I've stopped the bleeding, the other feels like I'm trying to keep the blood off the carpet while I search for the bactine and band-aids--

--and hope it won't involve a trip to the emergency room.

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