At Christmas, the black spot cracked and popped off - right out of the middle of the finger nail. The process was quite disgustingly nasty. Now I have a bizarre hole in the middle of my finger nail that annoys me greatly and catches on everything. Shawn's grandmother noticed first the blackened spot, then the gaping hole. When I told her about what had happened she spoke quiet words of wisdom, "Whelp, I reckon some of us needs a bit more reminding 'bout thangs than others."
How true - every time I see the remnants of my mishap, I remember that church service. I remember what I wrote on my paper - a long list of sins, covered by a huge word, "REDEEMED." I am reminded daily that Christ took my punishment so that I could experience life in God's presence.
Maybe, just this once, hitting myself with the hammer was more of a blessing than a pain.