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.