Thumb Theology

I cut my thumb on a knife today. No idea how; just looked down and there was blood all over my hand. Washed it off, applied pressure, put a band-aid on it (ugh, I left my Curious George ones in Philly!). But then every time I had to wash my hands, the band-aid would start to slide off my thumb. I finally caved in and just took it off all the way. I mean, it's just a little cut, right? How badly can it hurt?

Ha! Nice thought. You know how paper cuts are some of the most unfortunate injuries? This cut falls into the same category. I just can't quite use my thumb-- it really hurts if I put pressure on it. So all the sudden, I'm favoring that hand and doing things I'd usually do with my right hand with my left hand instead.

Dejá vu.

I'm sure some of you remember that I had hand surgery about six months ago. On my right hand. I could barely use my right hand at all-- for about three weeks (and boy, does three weeks drag on forever when you only have the use of one hand!). And then I didn't have full use of it for about another two months. It was one of The Most Frustrating Experiences of my life. I couldn't open a jar, hold a pen, carry anything.... I was totally dependent on my friends to take care of me; kind people from church made me food, and my roommates graciously picked up my slack on household chores.

It was wretched. And then it seemed like it wasn't healing correctly. I had to see a specialist and then go to multiple follow-up appointments. I wondered if I was ever going to have full use of my hand again. I'm not being melodramatic; I really thought I wasn't ever going to get my grip strength back, and I couldn't imagine being able to carry things or write or type without severe pain and discomfort.

How quickly we forget. That was not even six months ago, yet I never think about it. I really just don't think back to the days of praying for God to heal my hand. It seemed at one point like they had damaged nerves during the surgery; they talked about going back in to fix it. That had been my first surgery, and I was perfectly happy for it to be my last as well-- I was not remotely excited about going through the whole ordeal again!

I still don't have full feeling in my fingers (turns out there was already prior nerve damage in other fingers) and I probably won't ever; but honestly, that's fine. The point is, I have returned to normalcy. I don't think about not using my right hand. I don't feel severe pain when I do use it. In an average day, the fact that I had hand surgery doesn't even cross my mind.

Until today. All the sudden, I was back to avoiding using my right hand. It made me remember those months of fear and pain and uncertainty. And that made me realize that I haven't really thanked God that I'm not still feeling overwhelmed by that same set of emotions. I don't have to think about my hand anymore, so I don't. I don't remember that it could have been a lot worse; I don't thank God for the full use of both hands. Why? Not because I'm not grateful-- I "just" don't think about it.

So then I started thinking about all the other places this is true in my life....

Ouch.

Lord, thank you for the many ways that you take care of me-- even when I don't realize it or I fail to acknowledge it. Forgive me for taking your blessings for granted; for not recognizing the little (and big!) miracles that take place every day. Forgive me for not being grateful. Please open my eyes to see your hand at work in my life. Thank you that you give little reminders of your goodness-- even through a cut on my thumb!