Scars

Years ago, when my daughter was young, we had resurrected a rickety, old metal swing set.  A little tender loving care and a few new bolts were needed in this extremely important project.  My vast array of old nuts and bolts produced only options that were much too long.  I was able to piece the set together but in my effort to finish quickly I failed to saw off and file smooth, the extra long bolts.  One day, during my daughters swinging and climbing routine, she slipped off the swing set and slid down a protruding bolt.  I held my screaming girl while doing my best to sort out her shredded stomach.

I would never have planned for my carelessness to cause such pain for my dear little child, but planned or unplanned, my lack of discipline had caused a huge scar to one I loved dearly.

Does this folly follow me everywhere, exacerbated by my unwillingness to follow through?  Do I limit my care and thoughtfulness because I feel I deserve more love and compassion from family and friends?  Do I feel left out because my ideas were not chosen?  Do I not tidy up the loose ends of a misunderstanding and dislodge a friendship?  Or do I not file off the burrs of a misrepresentation and allow a relationship to develop an ugly scar?

Even though my lack of diligence tore through the body of my baby girl, she still came to me with open arms expecting no apology but only a desire for comfort.

As I stumble my way through this life, I would hope people would trust that my foibles are mostly a lack of attention not desire or intension.  May God grant me the ability to continue to piece together broken structures and may He heal the scars produced by the burrs and bolts of life I have missed.