A Lasting Reminder

Months ago I smacked my thumb with a hammer during a special church service. We were nailing small slips of paper with lists of our sins to a wooden cross to symbolize Christ's payment for our debts. As the weeks passed, the wound turned black, and began to slowly inch upward as my nail grew.

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.