Okay. I birthed seven children with barely a stick to bite on. I broke my pinky toe and shed a few tears. I got hit by a car as a child and walked away with six stitches and a Mountain Dew. But oh, the pain of this thorn in my index finger!
It’s a wonder how such a tiny thing can affect so much—pin curling my hair (I know it’s not the 1960s, y’all, but I still do that); texting, (yes, Songbird, my one-finger “mommy texting”); and just breathing…It hurts. All I want to do is cradle my finger. Having Hubby poke and prick it was so painful—and fruitless—because it is way deep and it refuses to budge.
I remember that day when I couldn’t have been more than four years old, and mama had styled my hair. Oh, how I hated it. So, as my sister and I headed across the street to visit a neighbor I asked her to redo it. Well, mamas see everything, and before we knew it, we both got called home, spanked, and sent to our room. Again, such a little thing that led to painful consequences.
Tiny details make all the difference. Yesterday, we all oohed and ahhed as a cute yellow ladybug crawled over Think Tank’s arm. Now, if that had been a spider….! We could’ve charged the neighbors admission because we’d have certainly entertained them. Two tiny legs mean the world in our book.
That’s how sin is. I tell my peeps, it’s never a little lie, or a little disobedience. We must diligently dig out these inclinations and temptations, picking away the sin nature to cover them up, absorb them, and make them a part of us. We need to cleanse ourselves while the wrongdoing still causes us pain, before we make that act a habit, a proclivity, keeping in mind that “A little leaven leavens the whole lump.” (Galatians 5:9)
As powerful as a little sin is, it doesn’t hold a candle to the Holy Spirit. There’s just no such thing as a “little Jesus.” When my faith seems puny and weak He can do “exceedingly abundantly” more than my little mind can comprehend, according to His great power. (Ephesians 3:20)
I do hope this thorn in my finger works its way out. If it doesn’t, I just might call my sister. I don’t think Mama would mind this time.
