Sunday, August 19, 2012

Battle Scars

He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”—Luke 10:27

It’s been 10 days and they’re still there.  Battle scars, I call them.  One on each wrist.  I had received a call for help from a friend, but before I set out to assist, I checked the oil in my Jeep. The “Add” warning was clearly visible on the dipstick, so I went to the shed to retrieve a quart (or two!) of oil. I reached into the box and searing pain shot into my right wrist.  I cried aloud, as several angry wasps swarmed around me, one becoming entangled in my hair.  I swatted it away, and a second dose of pain shot through my left wrist.  Again I cried aloud and left the shed as quickly as I could before the fury escalated.
I made my way to the house without sustaining another blow and whipped up a remedy of baking soda and water.  I applied the paste to both wrists, and then poured both quarts of oil in the Jeep—enough to register in the “Safe” zone on the dipstick—and was on my way.