Remember, Be Careful!

How often do mothers and fathers cry out with these words to their children and wives to their husbands? “Remember, Be Careful!”

Yet even while being careful, things like this still happen.





This is the second day, when it looks much better. I’ve started soaking it in vinegar today, to help reduce the swelling. It looked rather bad when I pulled my hand from my work glove.

It was the end of a long hard week, with many challenges and long laborious hours. But Saturday night was the end of a good week. Overall it had been quite productive and all the challenges had been met successfully and without dangerous incident. Saturday had been a long day. One tree had been felled, other trees and their canopies raised and their deadwood and internal growth cleaned. The limbs have been cut up and chipped. The logs and stump had been cut and all but the last load of the largest logs had been loaded and hauled. It was after eight o’clock and darkness was encroaching and as I was swinging one of the logs into the pickup, I did not swing quite highly enough, and the log slammed my finger against the edge of the tailgate. The finger and log rolled over the edge of the tailgate into the truck. I rolled the log off my finger and cried out, “Ow! Shoot! Oh that hurts! Ahhh!” (Yes, those are the actual words.)

Then I looked at my glove to see whether I’d torn it. I had not, but I observed the flow of red oozing into the fabric over my knuckle. Extreme pain and red are signs that things are not well. The man who had taken some of the logs and was helping me load the ones he did not want asked me if I had broken my finger. Thankfully, no. I removed the glove and found that I peeled back the skin from over my knuckle. It was bleeding but not badly. So I asked the customer for a bandage, and a few minutes later, having found one in the house, he applied it to my finger. By then I was feeling dizzy, nauseous, and even faint. I knelt down on the ground, and then lay in the grass for a couple of minutes. Then I finished loading the truck, drove home, unloaded the truck, and went in to tell Stephanie, who helped me clean it and apply peroxide and a new bandage.




Now this is what I must present to the world as I try to keep my finger straight so as not to reopen the wound. I hope that others understand.



Such occasions as this are truly observances of the goodness of the Lord. Certainly the injury could have been much worse, which He prevented. But even beyond that, it is an occasion to observe the marvelous design that He created in the functioning of our bodies. That such an injury can occur, and yet the skin can pull together and mend again, that the bruised bone also will heal, the trauma to the flesh will be repaired, and all without any work on my part. Such is the goodness of the Lord. Such is His good and gracious will. Such is His providence.

Therefore, though I am frustrated with myself for becoming too tired to work carefully and for my misjudgment that caused me this injury, nevertheless I find myself thankful to God for His great mercy and continual protection and never ending display of His love.