November 2 – “Great timing”

Once again I have been advised that my grasp of shades of meaning disparity among words is considerably lacking.  By way of background I must begin by explaining that on Halloween night there were hundreds of people walking around our neighborhood.  Many walked on the sidewalks.  Some walked down the middle of the street.  And others took shortcuts through the yards.  Therein lies the source of a serious problem.  See, I hate stickerburs.  Always have.  I work hard to keep the evil interlopers from taking hold in my yard.  That usually means pulling them up by hand so I can get at the roots.  The problem is that my neighbors aren’t so enthusiastic about dealing with the situation.  Now, I understand their problem.  One side is a lady who depends on a mowing service to keep her yard presentable.  Not her fault.  And on the other side is … well … no one.  We are at the mercy there of the bank who has an interest in the property and the city, which demands they meet code.  So we are surrounded by stickerburs.  And the children who made their way through those yards and onto our driveway brought the intruders with them on their shoes, on their costumes, in their fingers.  And for some reason our driveway became the haven for stickerbur removal. 

So with all those unwanted castaways just lying in wait in our driveway, it became inevitable that Cailyn should find a few.  And that she did.  In fact, since she doesn’t particularly care to wear shoes (hey, she’s a true Galveston girl), she found quite a few.  Most of them she was able to dispatch with ease proud of the fact that she was a big girl and could handle such minor intrusions.  A “sticker” then, came to be defined in terms of distraction, inconvenience, brief interruption.  All in all, it was not really a problem.  Not for a “big girl.” 

Alas, however, there came a time – twice to be exact – that the sticker played a dirty trick.  Oh, come out it did when Cailyn bravely grasped it in her fingers, but somehow it managed to leave behind one of its tiny prongs.  One small spike remained.  Shouldn’t be a problem, though, right?  Should come right out and the whole thing will be over, right?  Not so much.  See that’s where the lesson on word distinctions came into play.  Indeed a big girl can handle pulling out a sticker.  No problem.  Annoyance.  But when the sticker is gone and one prong remains, it is no longer a sticker.  Oh, no.  Now it has become … a “splinter.”  And splinters are among ultimate evils.  Right up there with “time outs” and “eat all your vegetables” and “say you’re sorry” and the horrifying, “no.”  Splinters are not easy to remove like stickers.  They require focus and patience and, usually, adult assistance.  Aargh.  If an adult is needed, then it must be something serious, something terrible.  And of it’s that bad, then … then … there are only two people in the entire universe who can handle it.  Only two people who are uniquely qualified to conquer the evil splinter.  And those two superheroes – Mommy and Daddy, of course – are not around, of course.  That makes for a tense time in the life of a three-year-old.  “Good old DadDad can make it feel better, but honestly, all he’s doing is making me laugh.  Nani knows all things medical, and she can probably do this, but … but … she’s still not Mommy.” 

Chris convinced her to hold a paper towel laced with an ice cube, telling her that maybe we could freeze it out.  I got her to giggle a time or two by talking to the splinter, and to her hand, and to the ice cube giving its life for this crucial procedure to come.  Finally the two of us managed, with a combination of distraction and a firm grip on her wrist, to perform the extraction procedure.  Success.  Tears dried up instantly and replaced by joyous laughter.  And … what’s that noise?  The front door is opening.  And now, after all that distress, who should walk in but … Mommy.  Thanks, Mom.  Great timing.

Psalms 37:3 says, “Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.”

Father, we are to give thanks in all things, so as hard as it is to say it, thank you for the stickerburs … and the splinters … that we have to deal with every day.  Help us to learn something from them.  Amen.